Then Loch Ness Came In And Ate Nick
by ThatOneK-9
Summary: GrimmNarutoSuper xover. Light established Sasunaru. Nick thought it was just going to be a regular case. But with two supposed 'ninjas' and a couple of Winchesters, the Grimm isn't quite sure what he has gotten himself into. And since when was it his job to help save the world too? M for blood. Pre-written. Updates every Friday.
1. And So The Beast Came Forth

**Slight AU.**

**Grimm takes places after episode 16, season 3. There is no Adalind, Nick killed her, so therefore there is no baby Renard.**

**Post Fourth War in Naruto. Sasuke returned to Konoha but Naruto isn't Hokage yet.**

**Supernatural takes place after episode 2, season 9.**

**Also, disclaimer, I only own the three homeless dudes and Larry the witness. The cover was made on demand through a guy my friend knows and I payed for it as a commission. Which I guess means I own that. All characters belong to their rightful owners and I make no money posting this.**

And So The Beast Came Forth

Prologue

The crushed lights of wrecked lamp-posts sucked the life out of everything in Portland. It sucked out the light of drunken people and lit bonfires in dark alleys. It sucked the life out of the usual gang of homeless people, fingers drawn from their ragged pockets as they tried to warm their frozen limbs by the fire. They had assembled themselves around the orange lightsource, pretending the cold light from the lamp-posts were nothing more than the shine of the waning moon.

"Morty, you got anything good?" Asked one man, his scruffy scarf dangling from his trembling shoulders.

Another, younger, man shook his head and attempted to warm up his fingers by grinding them together and blowing on the appendages. His gloves were missing their tips and the digits poking through the rough material were glowing blue in the light of the fire.

"Sorry, Allan, no good rum these days," he said, his voice sounding lopsided as he started coughing, his body curling in on itself as he sunk into a sitting position on the ground, cradling his stomach.

"Gotta' keep up them spirits," answered Allan and took a swig from a bottle hidden beneath the thin layers of his cloak. A trickle of liquid slid down his chin and he wiped away the stray drop. Allan grunted and looked through the top of his bottle, his nose twitching as the foul smell from the bottle seeped through the air.

"I'm all out of vodka here …" he said and threw the transparent glass against a wall. The bottle broke and shards flew, shimmering in the orange glow and reflecting the tired gazes surrounding the bonfire.

A third man started laughing, clapping his hand as Allan began gathering their empty bottles and flinging them against the wall. "Way to go, Allan!" Croaked the man and hiccuped, his gaunt face red with drunkenness.

"Shut up and join in, Tim," said Allan and howled with laughter.

All three of the men, young and old, took discarded items stowed away in the belly of a container and chucked it at a badly drawn chalk circle on the wall; courtesy of Morty.

Tim grabbed a pack of rotten tomatoes and spotted a black cat some few feet away, drawn to the fire like a moth, its yellow eyes trained to the dancing flames. The men roared and Tim threw the tomatoes at the others' request. The vegetables flew through the air, hitting the frightened cat square between the eyes. The animal wailed as the rotten food exploded upon impact.

"Bullseye!" Said Tim and did a victory lap around the fire, his cheeks gaining colour despite not being able to drink.

"Ain't no damn cat gonna' steal our stash," said Allan and settled down beside the huffing Tim. Said man had seated himself on the cold ground, his lungs gasping for breath and his body shaking with exhaustion. Morty sat opposite the two of them, eyes covered by a hoodie way too big for his thin frame.

One of the glass shards in the far end of the alley cracked under applied pressure. Morty turned his head and slowly he counted the men around the fire.

"One, two, three …" he said and scratched his scalp.

"Wait, if everyone is here-" he turned his head again, staring at the mouth of the alley, darkened by the sick glow of the lamp-post. "Then who is out there?"

Allan shook his head and Tim shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe that cat came back. Couldn't get enough tomatoes," said Allan and patted Tim on the back. They snickered together, their blue noses cold and their feet covered by shoes as full of holes as an emmental. Morty kept his eyes lingering for a moment longer before he turned back to the warm fire and pulled out a flask.

"That whiskey?" Asked Allan and made a grab for the small flask but Morty swung out of the way as he took a swig.

"Not if you are going to drink it," said Morty and stood up, walking further away from the bonfire and Allan's grubby hands. He waved the flask and laughed at Allan's dejected face as he stepped further back to the mouth of the alley, encouraging the older man to follow like a dog begging for a treat.

"Come on now, Allan. You want the whiskey, don't ya'?" Asked Morty and stepped towards the main street.

Allan's answer was cut short as Morty grunted in pain.

"Whazza' matter?" Asked Allan, and Tim turned his head to survey the situation.

"Stepped on a piece of glass," he grunted and hobbled over to the lamp-post, one hand reaching out to steady himself. Morty raised his foot and winced as he tried to remove the thick shard from his sore skin.

"Need some help?"

"No, no, I'm fine," said Morty. "Go back to the fire and get warmed up now that you can't steal my whiskey from me."

Allan left the young man alone and grudgingly stumbled back to Tim.

Morty pulled the shard out and flung it onto the sidewalk, content at seeing the normally busy streets of Portland deserted so late in the night. It made it easier for vagabonds to get the fire going without being arrested for pyromania.

Another piece of glass seemed to bend and explode under the pressure of something heavy and Morty leaned away from the mouth of the alley, favouring his right foot and barely touching the sidewalk with his left. He squinted his eyes in apparent confusion.

"Anybody there?" Called Morty and he heard Allan and Tim drop another empty bottle in surprise. If it was the cops, then the only fair thing to do was to give them a warning.

Morty couldn't see in the darkness of Portland and the lamp-post only provided a small ring of blue-ish light that stopped two tiles down the road.

Morty had trouble hearing Allan and Tim breathe and he had to wonder whether they dashed off at his first warning or was waiting for him to judge the situation further. No need to run if it was just that damned cat from before.

A young man stepped into the light. He seemed to be around Morty's age. Young, with a minimum amount of stubble that could only come from a lack of personal hygiene, and a face as pale as the light from the lamp-post. Morty raised an eyebrow and whistled, letting the others know that it was a false alarm. He could hear them rummaging through the container not a second later and he highly doubted they would have been able to run if it had been the cops. Alleys usually had dead ends, which was the very reason Morty now stood with a weird stranger beneath a lamp-post in Portland.

What struck Morty the most was the absurdly blonde hair and whisker-like marks on the man's cheeks. Three on each. He appeared to be a foreigner and Morty wasn't even sure the guy knew how to speak a word of english.

"Uh-" said Morty and continued to stare at the stranger.

The man was covered in beads of sweat and his t-shirt and slacks weren't doing much to keep him warm, yet he didn't look cold. Pale, yes, but tan and well fed instead of blue and lanky like himself.

"We got a bonfire going down in the alley. You should probably get some warmth, ya' know?" Morty jabbed his finger at the mouth of the alley where he could hear Allan and Tim argue over some unopened cans of pumpkin filling. The stranger nodded and Morty led him back to the small camp. The fire was still burning but it hissed whenever a gust of weak wind threatened to blow it out and Morty added a page of a newspaper they had scavenged earlier in the park. The flames spluttered but burned slightly brighter.

"Allan, Tim, meet a stranger," said Morty, sitting down on the pavement to study his injured foot up close. Allan had a strange grin on his face as he held out his hand for the stranger to take. The young man didn't shake the hand and Allan had the decency to look slightly offended at the rudeness.

"Ain't gonna' bite ya' know," said Allan and frowned, turning back to rummage through his container while Tim walked over to the strange man who had taken a seat next to Morty on the cold ground. Tim smirked and patted the man on his shoulder.

"Don't mind Mr Grumpy," he said. "You are welcome anytime. We vagabonds need to stick together," said Tim and raised his knuckles to the stranger. Morty was sceptical but the blonde man raised his own fist and bumped it together with Tim's.

"See, we're friendly," said Tim and ruffled the younger man's blonde hair in a friendly gesture.

The stranger threw up his hands in defence and scuttled back when he felt the hands in his hair, blue eyes wide like a trapped deer. Morty hadn't been able to see the guy's eyes out on the street - the lamp-posts could manage to turn just about anything blue - but the stranger had eyes like a wild ocean.

The young man's breath quickened and Tim held his hands palm up in mock defence.

"Not going to hurt you," he said and shared a glance with Morty. Poor guy must have gone through a lot to react that badly to a pat on the head. Allan didn't seem to react, the cold failing to sober up the old drunk man, and he mumbled every now and then when he found an empty bottle of liquor.

Tim and Morty watched the blonde man calm down, his breath steadying and slowly his hands came down from their protective position in front of his face. Tim grinned and elbowed Morty in the ribs, his way of saying _told you he'd come around_.

But Morty wasn't so sure.

The guy had slowed his breathing down so much he barely seemed to get any air into his lungs and his eyes had been closed from the minute they became visible from behind the wall of crossed arms. The man started to shake, new sweat replacing the old as his body shook violently.

"Are you okay?" Asked Morty, hesitating to scoot a step closer to the man in case he decided to bolt. The stranger didn't answer, neither shook or nodded his head, just kept sitting with his back against the wall with closed eyes and a calm breathing pattern.

Slowly, the man reopened his eyes and crawled closer to the fire. He didn't walk, but crawled on all four as if he was some kind of dog. Tim laughed at his antics but Morty shivered at the sight.

The blonde hair framed his face like golden fur and the whisker scars became thicker and stuck out from his face like real whiskers. Morty felt a rock land in his stomach.

The eyes had changed more than the man. Instead of the clear blue he had seen in the shimmer of the orange flames, they had turned into a disturbing red. Morty hadn't seen anything like it and the man suddenly seemed all that more feral.

Tim was still chuckling and Allan had his back turned on the three of them but Morty crawled closer to the fire. Perhaps his whiskey had turned bad. No, it just wasn't his usual brand, that was probably it. Tim wouldn't be laughing like that if he thought something was off.

"Why are your eyes red?" Asked Tim, clutching his stomach with one hand as he chuckled in good spirited mirth.

The stranger refrained from answering and chose to crawl closer to Tim.

In front of his eyes, the stranger started to turn into something different. Something different from a man. From how a usual stranger was supposed to be.

The blonde hair grew. Longer and longer until it covered his whole body like a coat of golden fur and his whisker scars popped out of his face as his mouth elongated and his pink nose turned darker in colour. He shed himself of the sweat drenched t-shirt and the slacks fell off his body as his hips cracked like broken bones, mending themselves like the hindlegs of a canine.

Tim had finally stopped laughing.

Allan was still scavenging the container for alcohol.

But no one could deny the large golden fox in the shade of the hissing fire.

Morty was sure his mouth was hanging open by now, jaw slack at the sight of Tim backing away and tripping over the bonfire. Tim screamed as the fox darted forward on two legs, its massive stature and nine swinging tails aiding the terrifying sight.

It was like the man had grown fur. Not like a werewolf, but like a were_fox_. Capable of walking on both two and four legs, clawed hands and pawed feet. It was surreal. Like a damn story from one of Poe's scary books.

Allan turned around, one hand stuck to a new bottle of something transparent and foul smelling. His eyes were unfocused at first, swimming in and out of awareness but Morty said nothing.

The fox had trapped Tim beneath its clawed hands and its head were inches away from Tim's own. Tim didn't breathe and he didn't try to defend himself when the fox closed its jaws around his throat. Morty could swear that if someone had asked him if Tim would suffer a silent death, he would have laughed in their face and called them maniacs. Somehow he had always believed Tim would die like he had been born. Squealing like a newborn piglet.

Truth and luck were assholes, Morty decided.

Neither he nor Allan had tried to get away while the fox held down the dying man, marvelling at the blood that seeped from the Tim's neck, staining the ground in a mosaic pattern.

Morty felt bile rise in his throat but held it down.

Allan vomited in his container.

The fox turned to Allan, and if Morty didn't know that animals had no knowledge of facial expressions, he would have guessed the fox was grinning. A wide smile that uncovered the reddened teeth beneath bloodstained gums. Its red eyes had overtaken what should have been the white area of the eye of a man. Like the fox had been a man before he killed Tim in cold blood.

It didn't even stalk up to Allan. It simply waltzed up to the older man on all fours, kicking aside the glass bottles the man had managed to salvage from between the mountains of garbage.

Its nine golden tails swung as if they danced to a silent sonata and tapped down on the earth every few seconds, creating a soft beat. Morty wondered if animals could hold a rhythm when they were busy trying to kill everyone around them.

The flames of the bonfire were eerie and the one way out of the alley was blocked by a creature that belonged to somebody else's nightmare.

Allan put his hand on the wall after he finished dry heaving, his back to the magnificent beast behind him. It watched with curious eyes as the man started to shake and slowly turn around.

It took less than a second for the canine to slam the man's head against the brick wall like a piece of toy. Like it was something that could be replaced as soon as it broke. Morty realized that it could. The fox sunk its teeth into Allan's warm stomach and ripped the skin from his bones, blood leaking through the thin coat the man had gotten himself last summer.

Morty cried.

For Tim and for Allan.

For himself.

For the stranger _he_ had invited and had claimed the lives of his only two friends.

For the fox that now stood in front of him, tongue lolling from its strong jaws as the teeth came uncomfortably close to his head. Morty gasped and drew in a hasty breath, smelling the stench of blood and intestines on the wind.

Just like Tim, Morty didn't scream. He wasn't fast enough.

It only occurred to him that his foot didn't hurt nearly as much as his skull the moment it broke under the strenght of the fox's jaws.


	2. What Have You Got For Us Today, Sergeant

**I should mention that there are 19 chapters in total, not counting the prologue and that first and last uploads will be doubles so you don't have to wait too much. Chapters are a minimum of 4000 words (minus the prologue) and that I have proofread to the best of my abilities. I'm ESL, but I have tried my best. Planned, written and edited in three months, here are the fruits of my labour.**

**Enjoy.**

What Have You Got For Us Today, Sergeant Wu?

Chapter I

The kitchen smelled of freshly made coffee. A smell Nick had gotten used to but could never really forget or get over. It meant something to him. It meant that Juliette knew who he was. That she knew what she was getting into and couldn't care less.

Nick smiled and raised the mug to his lips, blowing on the hot beverage as he watched his girlfriend bustle around the kitchen and ending up in front of the stove. The morning sun streamed in through the curtains.

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" Asked Nick. Juliette wiped her hands on her apron and twirled around to meet his eyes.

"Absolutely sure," she said. A smile graced her face and she turned back to the stove, muttering under her breath as the eggs started to blacken at the edges. Nick laughed.

"I'll have you know I am plenty capable of managing breakfast," said Juliette and turned down the heat before the eggs could have a chance at exploding. Nick nearly choked on his coffee but managed to keep his smirk hidden behind his cup.

His pocket started buzzing.

"Crap," he said and put down the mug. Juliette sighed.

"Seriously," she began. "On a Sunday?"

"Crime doesn't do weekends," said Nick and slid his thumb over the screen of his phone. "Burkhardt," he said.

Juliette glared at the phone but turned her attention back to the sputtering stove as the eggs fizzled and turned an acrid black.

"Okay, I'll be right there," said Nick and hung up. Juliette abandoned her brave mission of making eggs for breakfast and turned off the stove, grabbing some bread and jam.

"I've got to go," said Nick and drank a hurried gulp of hot coffee. He gave Juliette a peck on the cheek and she rolled her eyes. "Remind me I have to kill someone to get some time alone with you," she muttered and ushered him out of the door, handing Nick his coat.

"Car keys-" he said and Juliette threw him the clattering bundle.

"Just go," she said. "It's fine." Nick smiled and he ran down to the car, starting the engine and waving goodbye to the redhead. Juliette waved back before she closed the door and went back inside.

"Seems like it's just you and me again, bread and jam," said Juliette as she removed her dirty apron.

* * *

><p>By the time Nick managed to find the crime scene, Hank and Wu were already there - along with quite a few other uniformed men. The blue and red flashes of light made Nick dizzy and he wished he had brought his coffee with him. It was far too early to be working on a possible homicide.<p>

"Sorry," said Nick. "Hit all the red lights."

"Sure you did," said Wu and Hank shrugged. "Follow me, gentlemen," he continued and held the yellow tape up so the two detectives could crawl under. Wu pointed further down the alley with his small notebook and his face looked just as tired as Nick felt. Sunday was not a good day for any of them.

"This might come as a shock, but it's quite messy," said Wu and continued to walk. Nick felt claustrophobic in the cramped space, the brick walls pressing in on either side of him and the tall buildings cast the alley in deep shadows even during the day. He could see forensics had put up projectors for extra light.

"Aren't murders always messy?" Asked Hank with a small laugh. His joke fell short as they stopped at a dead end. Three bodies; all men, two younger and one old, lay dead on the pavement that hadn't been warmed by the sun.

"Man, that's nasty," said Hank and summoned a napkin from within the depths of his brown jacket. "I don't have the stomach for this,"

The bodies were scattered as though a beast had enjoyed playing with them, herding them around the small space and Nick covered his nose with the sleeve of his jacket, cursing Hank for bringing only one napkin. Hank just grinned, knowing exactly what Nick was thinking.

"They seem to have been turned at one point and no ID cards were found, but that could be because they might be vagabonds," said Wu. "Kinda hard to say," he furrowed his brows as he bend down to look at the faces of one of the dead men.

"Are you thinking animal attack?" Asked Nick and bend down to squat beside Wu, not quite comfortable being so close to another person's bloodied corpse. Most murders were usually clean; less chance of getting caught by a stray blood sample.

"Doubt it. There are footprints leading away from the scene and this doesn't seem like something another vagabond would do," answered Wu, grabbing his pen and pointing down the road they came.

Hank backtracked and spotted the yellow numbers easily.

It was a sizeable shoeprint, not too small and not too big but the track was smeared by the blood that had left the imprint and it was hard to see any distinct pattern of crosses or zigzags that could help identify the type of shoe.

"Definitely not a clown," said Hank. Nick changed focus from the body he was looking at - throat ripped out with the help of some insanely sharp object - and scooted over to his partner.

"I'd say a male shoe," said the Grimm. "Not any brand I know of, but it's small enough to be either man or woman. Just a gut feeling, though," Hank nodded an agreement and they moved over to one of the containers closest to the next body. An older man who smelled of puke and a mix of alcohol. Nick stepped over the scattered pieces of his insides.

"Yuck,"

"Agreed." Muttered Hank as he tip-toed over a certain intestine that even Nick knew was supposed to stay in the body for it to function properly. He hadn't been around Juliet for so long as to not know the difference between animal and human organs.

Wu was still bent over the first body.

Hank nudged him and cocked his head back to the body behind them.

"Wesen?" He asked.

"Looks like it. But still, doesn't look like a Blutbad or even a Mauvais Dentes …" said Nick as they rummaged through the contents of the container. Nothing of any importance, concluded Nick; spoiled food and the usual garbage.

"Mauvais Dentes?" Asked Hank and pulled a face.

"Big teeth, like a sabertooth tiger," answered Nick and closed the lid of the container. No need for the stench to get any worse than three mutilated bodies.

"But definitely Wesen," stated Hank and rolled his eyes. "Just what we needed on a fine Sunday morning."

Nick clapped his hands together, trying to wring out the feeling of the clammy texture of the container. Grease and something wet. Nick smelled his fingers and instantly drew his head back.

"I bet the old guy was scavenging for alcohol," he said, sticking out his tongue as his nose refused to smell the horrid stench any longer.

"Highly plausible," said Hank. He turned around on the spot and stepped away from the old man on the ground, one eye on the sighing Wu a few feet away.

"It's not like this'll give us any more to go on. Trailer?" He whispered. Nick nodded and went to clap Wu on the shoulder.

"We'll be going, you can send the other guys in,"

"Alright," he said and waved at the uniformed men waiting on the other side of the yellow-striped tape.

"Trailer," whispered Nick back as they seated themselves in the car. It finally felt like he could breathe clean air again.

* * *

><p>"Anything?" Asked Hank, rubbing his forehead and squinting his eyes in the dim light of the trailer. He turned yet another faded page and groaned. More German.<p>

"I've got nothing," said Nick and sipped his lukewarm coffee. "Page after page on how to kill Blutbad, Nucklavee, you name it but none have teeth to tear through skin like that."

"Why couldn't we get a normal case for once?"

"'Cause we aren't normal?"

"Hey! Don't count me in with the likes of you!" Said Hank and threw a piece of paper at Nick who, in turn, threw his arm up in defense. They had grabbed some breakfast on the way, now that Nick hadn't had the time to eat Juliette's failed attempt at making eggs.

"Are you going to call Monroe?" Asked Hank, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

Nick pulled out his phone and sent a text. No need to disturb Monroe and Rosalee more than necessary.

_Need help with a case. Meet at the trailer. Come when you can. - N_

"Wait a second," muttered Hank, letting his eyes roam over a torn page. "I think I've got something," he said and his finger traced under the inked letters. He turned the page and frowned. Nick got up from his chair next to the closet of weaponry and leaned over Hank's shoulder.

"What?" He asked, trying to figure out what had made Hank pull a grimace.

"What is it with you Grimms and German? Can't you just write in English?" Asked Hank and returned to the page he had found. On the top corner of the page there was a depiction of a muzzle with long fangs. The letters had been written in fine calligraphy, like a brush had merely skimmed the surface of the paper and then letters had sprouted from the tip of a pen. The writing was readable but the page was heavily damaged. One large chunk at the bottom had been ripped from the leatherbound book by what appeared to be claw marks. Nick's brows furrowed. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

_Click_.

The handle to the trailer turned and both Nick and Hank shifted their attention from the book to the door.

"Hey guys," said Monroe and stepped over the threshold, shaking his hair. Hank waved and muttered a greeting.

"That was quick," said Nick.

"I was dropping Rosalee off at the spice shop when I got your text," answered Monroe and shrugged his shoulders. Monroe clapped his hands together. "So, how can I be of assistance?"

Nick gestured to the book and Hank made room for another chair at the table. Monroe pulled out his glasses and crinkled his nose. "What do we have here …" he said to himself and began scanning the page with quick glances.

He spoke German in a hushed voice as he read aloud for himself and Nick marvelled at the pronounciation. He definitely had to learn German one day. Or Spanish. Or maybe even Japanese and God knows what other languages his ancestors had once written and spoken. He was pulled out of his musings when Monroe gave a little huff and turned quiet.

"What does it say?" Asked Hank, looking from the book to Monroe and back again. Nick leaned in, eager to hear what the torn page would uncover.

"Actually, it doesn't say that much," said Monroe, scanning both the page Hank had marked and the next in hope of something more. "It basically just speaks about something big - a real big Wesen with all the makings of a wild animal, but that could be just about any Wesen now a days."

"How old is the entry?" Asked Nick.

"It's not been dated, but I would guess at least a few centuries or even a millennium,"

"That old?" exclaimed Hank and regarded the book with newfound admiration.

"I'd say so, judging by the texture of the paper and the leather," said Monroe and removed his glasses. Nick heard Hank let out a muffled _nerd_ and Monroe rolled his eyes in response. Note to self, thought Nick, never badmouth a Blutbad in the same room. Especially one who hasn't gone on a veggie diet.

"But why isn't there any drawing of this - this _beast_?" Asked Nick. Monroe tapped the bottom of the book. The missing piece of paper.

"My guess is somebody, or some_thing_, didn't want itself to be depicted. Notice that blood spatter in the corner?"

And Nick did. Just above the frayed edge there was a tiny speck of crusted blood. Dark and dry as if it had been stuck there for way too long. Nick grabbed the book for closer inspection.

"But that doesn't really make any sense," said Nick. Hank turned in his chair.

"What doesn't?" He asked.

"Why would a Wesen only take the drawing but not the book? Surely it would have taken any chance at getting something even remotely useful, if not just for the sake of removing information from an enemy?"

Monroe scratched his chin.

"Why indeed …" he said and put his glasses back on.

Hank suddenly scrambled for his pocket, dragging out his phone. "It's Wu," he said and took the call. "Griffin,"

Nick listened in on the call, deciding it would be both faster and quicker for the both of them.

About a minute later, Hank put down his phone and gave Nick a sceptic look.

"I suppose you listened in on that," he stated. Nick gave a sheepish grin and nodded slowly while Monroe turned to Nick and cocked an eyebrow.

"It was the autopsy report," said Nick, knowing Monroe was hoping to gather some more information as well. The Blutbad would never listen in on a call unless specifically told to. He was too much of a good guy to not respect personal boundaries. "Apparently the bodies' _insides_ were fried as if they had been in contact with a large fire or even acid,"

"And I take it there was no fire?" Asked Monroe.

"No," said Hank. "A bonfire, but that would hardly cause such an amount of internal - _carnage_," he said with a click of his tongue, his mind wandering back to the scene of crime. The bodies hadn't seemed particularly burnt but apparently their insides hadn't been as good looking as the bits on the pavement. "The bodies were pretty much just mauled or ripped open."

Monroe opened his mouth to say something else but never got the chance as Hank's phone started buzzing like mad again.

"What the hell does Wu want now?" groaned Hank and answered the phone.

"Yeah, Griffin,"

Nick started putting on his jacket as soon as he heard Wu's dull voice explain the situation with a hint of urgency. Monroe looked startled as Nick cleaned out their litter and grabbed his things.

"There's been another murder," said Hank as he stood next to the door, waiting for Nick.

"Is it the same as before?" Asked Monroe.

"Pretty much," answered Nick. "But this time there's a witness." Hank waved and Nick gave Monroe a disgruntled look before he passed Monroe a set of keys. Monroe didn't have to ask what he was supposed to do; there was a message hidden in the simple action. _I trust you enough to lock after you're done_. Monroe nodded back to Nick and the Grimm closed the door behind himself and his partner as they disappeared out the small doorway.

"I'll just keep looking for something that burns the inside and rips the outside, then …" muttered Monroe and eyed one of the older books on the shelf.

* * *

><p>It was a parking lot not too far away from the first scene of crime. It looked like a nice place, pretty clean for something that was exposed to various fumes all day and all night. The booths were large enough to fit a Hummer but small enough for a long limo to break around one of the bends on the way. The lighting was decent and while there were no windows underground, it was lit by a number of bulbs fastened in the loft all around the place.<p>

There weren't many cars now, Nick noted, besides a single red Fiat surrounded by a yellow dash of police tape to cut off the scene. Wu met them halfway and he sighed before they could say anything.

"Busy day," he said, handing both Nick and Hank a pair of white gloves. Nick bent down under the yellow tape and stepped over to one of the bodies, a man. The body had slid down from a standing position, his back torn open by large claws and gashes littered his face, locked in a silent scream. His brown hair was clotted with blood and Nick was pretty sure it was the man's own blood.

"Any ID yet?" Asked Nick, frowning lightly at the position of the body. It seemed to have been turned at a later point, just like the bodies in the alley. Same MO, that was for sure.

"Mr and Mrs Jefferson, a banker and a cashier," answered Wu and opened the door of the car to let Hank have a look at the dead woman. Her body was slung over the steering wheel but her legs were laying on the seat beside her. A desperate attempt to gain control over the car after they were attacked.

"Robbery?" Asked Hank. There was no real bruising on her body but her face had been gnawed to the point it was beyond recognition. Made sense why they hadn't moved her head from its slumped position.

"Nah," said Wu. "Money is still in their wallets along with credit cards and other belongings."

"Any guess at a motive yet?" Asked Nick, shifting the body of the man a little bit so he could have a closer look at the wound.

"Paid their taxes, no illegal affairs, no drugs, no nothing," said Wu. He squinted as Hank turned the face of the dead woman in the car seat and was greeted by a sight devoid of missing skin. Wu covered his mouth with his hands and turned away from the scene.

Nick nodded, not sure if Wu saw he had heard, but something caught his eye. Something in the wound on the back of the man, between the strips of loose flesh and glinting blood, something white shone in the light of the bulbs. It wasn't bone and it couldn't have been some surgical intervention. Nick tried to pull the object out but the white object was lodged deeply within the dead man. Wu still had his back turned and Nick burrowed his finger in the wound. Nick was grateful he was wearing the gloves, but the thin fabric didn't provide much protection against the clamminess and wet blood of an open wound.

The object let go with a sickening _squelch_ and by the time Nick was able to look at the thing, it was dripping red with blood. It was large and pointy at the end, like the edge of a blade, but was also rounder and slightly curved. It felt smooth under his fingers as he wiped away the blood. It wasn't a brilliant white, but rather a faded yellow. A tooth.

Nick looked around, making sure that none were keeping an eye on him before he slid the tooth into his inner pocket. If it really was a Wesen attack, the creature had lost something that could throw off the investigation as an animal attack and it would be even harder to bring someone in for murder. Not to mention half the station would believe they had gone bonkers.

Nick turned the body back to the position they had found it in. "Where's the captain?" He asked, eager to make sure someone noticed the body back in its right place before anyone saw anything askew. Usually the Captain stopped by when they had found an MO with a body count of plus four. Bigger chance of sniffing out a scandal, resulting in a press conference. Renard would need to be briefed to avoid being put in a corner. Besides, nothing beat a firsthand experience.

It took Wu a second to realise Nick was talking to him.

"Captain is busy with family matters," he answered and backed away from the open car door where Hank still stood bowed over the female victim. Nick got up from his kneeling position on the ground, stretching his legs to get the blood flowing.

"Hank, when you are done with examining that body, don't you think we should talk to the witness?" Asked Nick with a yawn. Time seemed to fly when you worked and the fact that there were no windows down in the underground parking lot didn't help give a feel of the time. Nick didn't even know what time it was, except it seemed like ages since he had kissed Juliette goodbye that morning.

"Sure," said Hank. Wu grabbed his notebook and opened it up to a page with a dog ear.

"Witness is named Larry Cartwright, 34 years of age, guard of the parking lot," said Wu and started walking. Nick and Hank followed at a decent pace and Wu had turned quiet again. Nick opened part of his jacket and Hank got the clue. Hank squinted his eyes at the sight.

"A tooth?" he asked when Nick closed his jacket again. The underground parking lot was extremely cold without the heat of the sun.

Nick shrugged. He would have to run it by Monroe or Rosalee before he went home.

When they rounded a bend, a crew of medics had opened the back of their ambulance and a shivering man sat huddled with a blue blanket. He had a scruffy blonde beard and his slick hair was pulled into a ponytail with the help of a black hair band. His face was shielded by a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and he was snivelling, drying his running nose in the blanket.

Nick laid a hand on the man's shoulder and he jumped at the touch.

"Larry?" Asked Nick. The man nodded, his lower lip quivering as if he was ready to burst into tears. Wu kept back, letting Nick and Hank handle the witness.

"Can we ask you a couple of questions now?" Asked Hank, his hands in his pockets and a slouched posture. An open stance which wouldn't cause the man to have a panic attack in fear of being attacked.

Larry nodded but his face was scrunched up in a grimace. Nick had a hard time telling if he had given his consent or not. In the end he decided to get on with it.

"Can you tell us what you saw?" Asked Nick, getting out his own pen and notebook, ready to jab down anything he could relay to Monroe as something Wesen or plain weird. Larry hiccuped.

"I was doing my u-usual rounds when all of a sudden I saw Mr and Mrs Jeffersons' car in their booth," said Larry. "They are usually some of the first to leave but now it was the last car so I went over to see if maybe they had punctured a wheel but then I saw this kid standing over M-Mr Jefferson..." Larry broke off with a sob and blew his nose.

"What did this kid look like?" Asked Hank. Nick was busy putting down notes. It surely couldn't have been a Löwen gone wild, and most Wesen weren't children when they went berserk. They usually had a motive when they got older.

"He was foreign, 'cause when I shouted at him he didn't respond. He looked asian, with black hair that sort of stuck up at the back of his head," said Larry.

"Did you see his eye colour?" asked Nick.

Larry shook his head and moaned. "He ran as soon as I spotted him. Fast as hell, ran like he was on fire," he said and drew the blanket closer.

"Do you have any idea how old he was?" Asked Nick.

"Young, I think. Maybe early twenties or something?" Said Larry although it sounded more like a question. He fiddled with his fingers in nervousness and barely held any eye contact with neither Nick nor Hank. He didn't even look at Wu.

"So, we are looking for an asian male in his early twenties with black, medium-length hair, is that correct?" Asked Nick. He had sketched something rough in his notebook, a habit now that he had taken up the Grimm records and wanting to contribute himself. Any chance at improving his drawing skills for future generations was an opportunity he couldn't miss. Especially if they were dealing with an entirely new species of Wesen.

Larry muttered an agreement and Nick put away his notebook, walking over to Wu. Hank fell into step behind him.

"Can we get an APB out on this guy?" Asked Nick and Wu raised an eyebrow.

"You really think a kid could have done this?" He retorted.

"No," said Nick. "But I think he knows something that could help us,"

Wu clicked on the radio on his shoulder and Nick gestured for Hank to walk with him.

"What do you reckon?" Asked Hank as they followed the white arrow on the ground to the exit.

"It's definitely Wesen," said Nick. "But I have no idea where the kid fits in."

"You don't think he was Wesen?"

"No," concluded Nick. "If he was the one behind the murders, then why run when another possible victim shows up in an abandoned parking lot? That doesn't add up,"

Hank shrugged. "But the Wesen or _something_ didn't take the whole book, did it? It only took the part of the page that was necessary for its immediate survival,"

Nick trudged on, contemplating the new facts and turning several bends before they could finally see the afternoon sun on the horizon. They had spent way too much time in the trailer and half abandoned parking lots as to not enjoy the crisp air. Nick opened the door to their car and Hank took the driver's seat, both eager to get out of the cold and into the still warm car.

"Hang on," said Nick, fumbling with his jacket. His phone was buzzing madly inside his pocket and he frowned when he looked at the screen.

"Don't tell me it's Wu," said Hank, his head visible over the top of the car.

"It's Rosalee," said Nick, pushing the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Nick," said Rosalee, her voice scratchy and barely a breath on the wind.

"Are you whispering?" Asked Nick.

"Yeah," she answered. "You have to come to the spice shop,"

"Is everything okay?" Nick gestured for Hank to get into the car and the Grimm closed the door with a _slam_, fastening his seat belt with one hand while Hank got the engine going.

"In a way," she said. "But this kid just walked in, asking for all these specialized Wesen herbs,"

"What's wrong with that?"

"He's not Wesen," whispered Rosalee.

Nick took a deep breath. Being _not_ Wesen meant either being a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen or another Grimm. Two options equally impossible.

"Do you know what he looks like?" Asked Nick.

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Nick was grateful that Hank had kept silent and had had the foresight to start driving toward Rosalee's place.

"Male, black hair, foreign," she whispered back. "I can't see his face, he's wearing a hoodie but I could hear a slight accent in his voice,"

Nick felt his stomach drop way below the underground parking lot they had just left.

"What are the herbs for?" He asked. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he wanted to have Rosalee on the phone for as long as he could manage. They were only ten minutes away now. Her voice was barely above a whisper and Nick had to strain himself to hear her.

"Anger management …"


	3. Catnip Can Cause Hallucinations

"Catnip Can Cause Hallucinations," She Whispered

Chapter II

One of the larger jars on the top shelf caught some of the light from outside, reflecting the pale ray of sunlight that had strayed into the spice shop. The crushed herbs emitted a pleasant smell and Rosalee was quite satisfied with the concoction she was making. It had the perfect colour and a silky texture, complementing it's rosy fragrance.

Rosalee stood beside the table littered with medical equipment and put down the wooden spoon she had been holding, turning off the flame under the bubbling mixture. There were no customers at the moment, leaving her with plenty of time to finish up some of the more complicated orders that needed special treatment. She smiled a little to herself.

So far, the day had been fairly good. No sour-faced costumers and everything that was requested was in stock. It was one of those days that just couldn't go wrong. The sun was shining and she felt high without the aid of drugs or any other substance.

The bell tinkled when the front door cracked open and let in some of the hustle and bustle of the streetlife outside.

"Just a second!" Said Rosalee, hurrying to wash her hands to ensure none of the herbs were stuck to her sweaty palms. Nobody answered and Rosalee dried her hands on a towel before rushing out of the small space and entering the main room of her shop.

"What can I help you with?" She asked and looked up.

A guy had his back turned to her, his fingers dancing over the lid of her jars and turning the different bottles on the shelves to have a closer look on the labels. He was wearing a black hoodie with a red eye dotted in the middle of the back - unusual fashion sense, even in Portland. The symbol looked more like a circle with three commas, but Rosalee knew she had seen the mark somewhere before.

He didn't answer but kept browsing, making sure to have his back turned to her. Rosalee didn't press the man into telling his purpose. A scared Wesen was often a dangerous Wesen and she had no need for someone to rob her store or damage it in some fit.

The man took his time, first checking the shelf by the window, then the bookcase next to the wall and at last the shelf in the middle. On both sides.

He was squatting at the bottom shelf before he opened his mouth.

"Do you have any _Nepeta Cataria_?" He asked.

Rosalee rolled the words on her tongue. They had sounded strangely unfamiliar and heavily accented before the latin name for catnip.

"Of course," she answered and waited for the man to turn and face her. He didn't.

"Is it possible to mix it with some _Avena Sativa_, _Passiflora Incarnata _and a pinch of _Piper Methysticum_?" He asked. His words became more distinguishable hearing his voice a second time but Rosalee frowned at the requested herbs.

A mixture of catnip, oat, passion flower and kavakava could be used as a strong sedative or to soothe someone with a lot of anxiety problems. And anger, for that matter. Rosalee didn't notice the man get up until he stood in front of her desk, his pale hands drumming on the wooden surface, his hoodie shrouding his face in darkness despite his closeness.

Rosalee drew a sharp breath.

Part of his hoodie had slid off when he had gotten up and a stray beam of light reflected itself in deep grey eyes flashing with a hint of red, like they were covered by a thin layer of film that couldn't quite conceal their real colour.

"Fuchsbau …" he whispered and Rosalee found herself shrinking in his presence. She could tell he was young but the power he emitted already had her in submission. Fuchsbau usually avoided conflict and Rosalee instantly knew this man was not be messed with - obvious age difference or not, this was way out of her league.

"I'm pretty sure I have most of this in stock but I'll just have to check out back," she said with confidence. The man seemed to buy it and nodded slowly. "There should be oat on the top shelf, if you could fetch that," said Rosalee as she scuttled out to the back. "I'll go get the rest."

Rosalee had barely turned the corner before she collapsed against the wall, clutching her chest and heaving short gasps of air, forcing it down her lungs. "Okay, okay …" she muttered to herself. She could hear the man step towards the top shelf, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He turned a jar, a soft grating noise against the oiled wood.

It took her some time to calm her heartbeat down to a reasonable pace. The man had scared her way more than she would have cared to admit.

"Can you find it?" He asked, his voice raised as if he was unsure where she was.

"Just a second," said Rosalee and her body started shaking again. Something about him was off. The scent he carried wasn't that of a stressed or anxious Wesen - it didn't even smell remotely like he had been in close contact with a Wesen at all. And even if there was the slightest chance he was a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen, not many would be kind enough to fetch such a powerful sedative in case the Wesen you thought was sick might turn on you. And that was considering the Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen hadn't been locked up in an asylum the moment he had opened his mouth to talk to someone about it.

Rosalee wiped the corner of her eyes. When had she even started crying?

She knew where all the ingredients were but she had a feeling she should let Nick know about the hooded man. Rosalee grabbed a tin of _Piper Methysticum _and a potted _Nepeta Cataria _before she went back out to the desk.

The man had found the jar of oats and had placed it on the counter.

"I'm terribly sorry but I'm all out of _Passiflora Incarnata_ at the moment," said Rosalee. The man drew a long breath, opening his mouth to say something but Rosalee beat him to it.

"If you are willing to wait for a couple of minutes I could call my supplier and he could be here in less than ten," she said.

He looked sceptic, shifting from one foot to another, contemplating the pros and cons.

Rosalee knew he had no other choice if it was a matter of importance. She was one of the only Wesen herb suppliers who didn't ask all the awkward questions.

"Fine," he said with a huff of air and turned around, back to window shopping while Rosalee got out her phone and went out back. She scrolled through her list of contacts until she came to _N_.

She would have to keep Nick on speed dial if things kept going this way.

The empty bleep on the other end kept going until she thought the Grimm would never pick it up. If it wasn't for the creepy guy on the other side of the thin wall, she would have banged her head against the material in bare frustration.

"Hello?" Came a voice.

"Nick," said Rosalee. It was a whisper, not wanting to alert the other man.

It didn't take long for Rosalee to explain the circumstances and Nick sounded just as scared as she felt. She couldn't tell it was on her behalf or if he knew something she didn't, but in any case she was happy to hear the voice of a friend in a desperate situation. Rosalee wasn't exposed to the fights and raw adrenaline like the others but she had become accustomed to the reality she now lived in, knowing a Grimm and a couple of Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen.

Rosalee hung up and put a smile on her face before she returned to the front desk. The shop smelled of harsh catnip and Rosalee had a hard time not to start coughing. For a Fuchsbau, catnip was the equivalent of a cigarette. Calming but addictive to a certain degree.

"There, he should be here in just a couple of minutes with the passion flower," said Rosalee.

"Can you start mixing the potion or do you need the _Passiflora Incarnata_ as a basis ingredient?" He asked.

It was strange how he avoided saying any of the plant names in english, apparently preferring the latin name or simply because he couldn't pronounce it. Rosalee decided not to call him out on the oddity.

She strolled over to the bookshelf and pulled out a dust covered book. It had been in her family for centuries but it carried the best manuals and Rosalee scanned the list. She had all the necessities to start and it would buy her some more time until Nick could get there.

"Yes, I can start right now," she said and slammed the book close.

"Is it possible for you to do it out here? I am rather interested in seeing how it's done," he said as he saw her get ready to go out the back again.

Rosalee was startled for a moment before she pulled herself together. "Sure," she said. "I'll fetch the equipment."

Rosalee found the man stranger and stranger the more they interacted. He seemed genuinely intrigued by all the herbs and spices and he had a peculiar way of expressing himself. He was extremely polite for someone supposedly associated with violent Wesen.

It was easy enough for her to find the burner she had stowed away not so long before, and the requested mixture required little groundwork. Rosalee had to search the cupboards for clean tubes, but in the end she could carry everything in one go.

"Do you want me to explain what I do?" She asked.

The man frowned in response and lowered his hoodie a bit more. Rosalee was confused when she was finally able to glance at his face without it being obscured by dark clothing or shadows. The terrifying man was _extremely_ young. While she had guessed for him to be in his early twenties, she highly doubted he was older than nineteen. He had smooth pale skin not native to Portland and his grey eyes shimmered with interest.

"It won't be necessary," he said. "I can follow."

Rosalee held back a yelp when the man's eyes bled over to a blood red.

"Don't worry," he said. "It makes sure I remember exactly what to do,"

Rosalee felt unsure under his gaze and she had no idea what he meant with his eyes being able to help him remember. No Wesen or Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen she had ever heard or known of had such an ability. She ended up merely nodding and turning up the heat on the gas burner.

She nipped a couple of leaves from the catnip plant and threw them in while she waited for the temperature to go up. It was easier to extract the liquid inside the leaves through steam distillation and still get the same effect. The residue liquid, nepetalactone, was a weak sedative compared to some of the stronger herbs she had out in the back, but the man seemed interested in merely making someone a little less prone to bashing one's skull in. It wasn't mentioned in the recipe but the young man standing beside her didn't question her choice of action. Either he hadn't read the instructions or he didn't care about her having a different way of treating the herbs.

The oats came next. She ground them in a mortar, turning the grains into a fine dusty powder that could easily trickle down the neck of a tube and mix with the distilled catnip extract. It would help easing stress and calm down emotionally frayed people. While it was recommended by the book to be added in its pure form, Rosalee knew that the oil extracted from the catnip would encapsulate the effect from the oats as though they were fresh. Sometimes Rosalee could turn all giddy knowing how far herbal science had come.

By the time she added the kavakava, the bell above the front door jingled again. It was Nick, and Hank came in too. She realized they must have been working a job when she had called.

"Ah!" She exclaimed and looked up from the steaming and spluttering potion. "This is my supplier," said Rosalee with a careful smile.

While the stranger was busy giving the two newcomers elevator looks, Rosalee gestured frantically with her eyes, trying to convey to Nick and Hank to just _play along_. Even her neck felt strained.

It didn't take long for the foreigner to spot the police badge adorning Hank's chest.

"I take it you aren't here with the _Passiflora Incarnata_?" He asked. His eyes had turned back to a dull grey and Rosalee doubted whether Nick or Hank had managed to catch a glimpse of his unusual ever changing eye colour.

Nick followed the line of vision and saw the young man eye Hank with displeasure. "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to come with us," said Nick, and opened his jacket to reveal his own badge.

The young man stiffened and Rosalee heard him draw in a sharp breath. At first she thought it was the badge until she realized he had already guessed they were cops. The only other thing visible through the thin fabric of Nick's inner jacket was a tooth. It took the young man a few seconds to compose himself and he coughed to cover up for his silence.

"On what grounds?" He asked, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Nick and Hank at the same time. The Grimm had to admit that was quite a feat.

The young man kept up with his glaring and Nick frowned. They had no valid reasons to take him to the station except an APB that probably hadn't even been issued yet. Dragging him to the station without any evidence was a bad idea as well, and it would give them one hell of a hard time explaining. Not to mention Renard might have some objections.

It was a silent staring contest between the foreigner and Nick who had moved one hand to rest on his hip. His pistol hip - just in case. The young man flicked his tongue and looked away from the Grimm.

"I know my rights, and I know you can't take me to a station solely because you had a _feeling_ I might be up to something," he said. "Which - by the way - I am not."

Hank stood by the door and had turned the _Come In, We're Open_ sign at some point. The less interference, the better. It seemed the kid was determined not to go without a fight.

"We don't want any trouble now, so if you could please come down to the station with us, we can get all this sorted out," said Nick. He had brought his hands up in what he hoped would be taken as a calming gesture and he used the soft voice he often spoke to Wesen with - and which resulted in less awkward excuses about random people being afraid of beheading at the station.

The teen didn't move but merely crossed his arms and leaned his back on the counter. "No." He said, and tapped a foot against the wooden floor.

Rosalee was silent, looking uneasily behind the foreign man, first to Nick and then Hank. The latter raised an eyebrow as his eyes fell on the dark boots the man was wearing. They were in stark contrast against the smooth wood but the soles looked freshly wiped, as if the teen had stepped in something.

"I don't know about you Nick," said Hank and pointed a finger to the foreigner's boots who had stopped tapping the minute he saw Hank looking at them. "But I believe that footprints matching a scene of crime with two murders is enough to bring anyone in for questioning," he finished.

The teen stood rigidly, his jaw popping and Nick could almost hear him grind his teeth.

"I do believe we have a _very_ valid reason to want to talk to you," said Nick. Hank's hand went to his back and retrieved a pair of gleaming cuffs.

"We can do this the easy way," he said, earning him another burning glare from the foreigner. "Or we can do this the hard way."

By the look of the sneer on the teen's face, they were going to do this the hard way.

* * *

><p>In the end, the teen hadn't put up much of a struggle. There had been a small scuffle but the young man had been reluctant to damage Rosalee's store and even when they were dragging him away in cuffs, he asked Rosalee to have the concoction on standby. It was a strange request, Nick had to admit. The foreigner had seemed to have absolutely no problems controlling his emotions - rather the contrary. Nick had felt uncomfortable in his presence, like when he had first become a Grimm, not knowing what he was facing, and he sure as hell wasn't seeing anything even remotely Grimm related.<p>

Hank had received a rather vicious blow to his cheekbone, resulting in a cut but nothing more. Nick had taken a blow to the stomach, winding him and sending him down on the floor, clutching his belly. While Nick was glad the punch hadn't been aimed lower, he had gotten a feeling that the man was holding back. The teen was careful not to get herded into a corner and he dodged every attempt with an amount of grace that not even a well fit Löwen would be able to copy. Not to mention the amount of strength it took to bring Nick to his knees was beyond ordinary human level. Of course, it was possible that the foreigner was some crazy assed kung fu champion but all evidence pointed towards a Wesen connection, even though the teen hadn't woged or reacted to a Grimm being in the same room as himself.

It was rather unlikely that a Wesen would be able to be in such good control that not even a Grimm could see through their mask. Granted, Renard had been able to keep it a secret for way longer than Nick cared to admit, but the idea of another Wesen in check with both their human and beastly side unnerved the Grimm. Even as they pulled up in front of the station, Nick could feel his stomach doing backflips in some odd sort of warning that this felt wrong even for his human instincts. Something about the foreigner was way off.

Wu was the first to greet them on their way to the holding cells.

"You guys are quick," said Wu through a yawn, the folders in his right hand flying up to shield the rest of the room from what Nick assumed was a bad bout of morning breath. "You already caught the culprit?" He elaborated and gestured to the stoic teen standing between Nick and Hank.

"No," said Hank and shrugged his shoulders. "But he was causing trouble and he certainly clammed up when we asked if he wanted to come down here," he said.

They were currently blocking the hallway to the office but Nick didn't care, it was good to see Wu back in action after the Aswang incident and the guy seemed as quirky as usual. The missing snarky comments had been a topic more than once during office hours.

Wu stepped aside as he saw the suspect shift from one foot to another, his eyes widening the smallest amount when he saw the wiped shoe soles. "Good luck, gentlemen," he drawled and Nick and Hank resumed their path past the Captain's office and the delicious smelling coffee machines. What Nick wouldn't give for a good cup of hot, steaming coffee.

"Nick? You okay man?" Asked Hank and waved a hand in front of Nick's face. He hadn't even notice himself stopping. Or his feet turning towards the coffee machines. The foreigner looked nonchalant, as if he hadn't just been in a fistfight with two cops but nonetheless, Nick could spot the beginning of a grin miles before it reached one's lips. And the teen was definitely close to grinning at him.

"I'm fine," said Nick, shaking his head to clear his mind. Usually he would space out at his desk and not in the hallway with a potential perpetrator - and possible murderer.

Nick still felt the aftereffects of the 'lazarus' incident and while it had left him stronger and faster than before, his head didn't feel quite as with him as it used to be. Coffee smelled really good right about now.

"Nick, focus," said Hank, checking the hallway for other cops that might have seen Nick lose his concentration.

"Sorry," said Nick and started walking before his mind could wander off without his permission again. He wouldn't say it to Hank right away, but something about the foreigner was making every instinct within him reel and at the same time he felt the need to offer his help. And he sure as hell wasn't going to help the guy who had gutted him less than an hour ago.

Hank buzzed them inside and they stopped at the first free cell. It reeked of metal and there were spots on the floor that Nick would never have the guts to even dream about how they got there. While it was cramped and the bed wasn't the most fluffy thing in the world, the foreigner would be able to cool down until they could question him tomorrow. Not to mention they still had to explain their reasoning to Renard.

The teen was calm and he had exerted his right to remain silent, not even complaining when Nick and Hank walked away without telling him how long he had to spend his life in a small cell. But if he didn't ask any questions, they wouldn't either.

"Man," exclaimed Hank when they had buzzed themselves out again. "That dude is seriously creepy," he said and looked expectantly at Nick who cocked an eyebrow in response.

"Well? Was he Wesen?" Asked Hank, nearly whispering his question as another officer passed them. Nick was close to rolling his eyes but refrained from doing so; Hank had become more and more impatient whether or not their cases were Grimm related whenever they turned out to be just the slightest hint of strange.

"Not as far as I could see, but there was something about him that puts me on edge," said Nick, stopping by the coffee machine now that he had both hands free. Hank nodded and grabbed himself a cup of black coffee.

"Me too," said Hank. "Want to get it over with and tell Renard?"

Nick groaned and took a sip before he answered, savouring the hot bitterness as it travelled down his throat. "Might as well," he answered and put down his cup. He had already emptied it, running on a much higher energy level now that his body refused to be tired.

Wu passed them again but chose not to comment on Hank's now obvious cheek bruise. The skin had turned deep purple and Hank winced whenever he had to move his facial muscles too much to pronounce a word or take a sip of his coffee.

Nick waited for Hank to finish his steaming cup of caffeine before they headed towards the wooden door to the Captain's office. The blinds were down and they could hear their Captain on the phone. Renard's voice was speaking rapid french and by the returned noises on the other end of his cell, so was the person he was talking to.

Nick motioned for Hank to wait until he heard the definitive _bleep_ of an ended call. Renard finished his call but by the tone of his voice, it hadn't gone too well.

Hank knocked.

"Enter," said Renard, hastily putting a smaller cell into a locked drawer before closing it from prying eyes. Not that he would blame neither Nick nor Hank. It was natural to be curious, even if it was just a phone call.

"What is it?" Asked Renard. His hands were folded so his chin could rest on them and his lax posture in the chair gave off the impression that the phone call had been important - and disturbing - enough to put the Captain on edge.

"We've got a potential perpetrator down in cell one-" began Hank but the Captain merely raised a hand to stop him mid sentence.

"Potential perpetrator?" He asked and narrowed his eyes. "I don't know if I haven't been clear enough for you two, but we have less funds than ever and we do not have the time nor the money to pay off all the lawyers it would take to keep you two in line …" Renard trailed off and rubbed his temple. Sleep would be a welcome gift, but not in a office with a Grimm and a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen. Zero to none that he would ever let such an insult to his pride be on public display.

"Sir, we do know, but we are suspecting a Wesen connection to the new murders and he is our best lead," said Hank in defence.

Renard leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching out a fleeting beam of light streaming through his window. There were Wesen cases everywhere nowadays and the number of Verrats flooding Portland had been massive over the last month. Keeping track of all of them was excruciating and he had used his usual excuse of family business more than he had done the past five years. It was pathetic, but also needed if he wanted to keep the trust of the Resistance.

"I haven't had the chance to read the file yet," admitted Renard and sunk further down in his chair. While he didn't feel completely comfortable in Nick and Hank's presence, they were also the only detectives he would allow to see his tiredness and frustration so clearly. The lack of Sebastian's scheduled reports had left him on edge as well, but a good case would help him clear his mind of Viktor's elusive plans.

Nick caught the hint and explained. "Five murders as of yet, two different scenes but same MO, looks like something with claws went on a frenzy but there were footprints leading away from the scene so we assume it was human," said Nick.

"Or Wesen …" concluded Renard and tapped his fingers against the mahogany desk. The grain was finely sanded and felt smooth under his fingertips. "Only men or only women? If it's a Wesen serial killer, we want to know what his type is," he said.

"That's just it," said Hank. "The first three were male, homeless and aged between - possibly - 20 to 40 years old."

Nick kept glancing under the blinds of the door, keeping a watch in case Wu dropped in. He would knock, yes, but that didn't mean he wouldn't have been able to hear what they said. All three of them had agreed to be extra cautious around him after the Aswang incident.

"Second batch was one male, aged 34, and his wife, aged 32. Both had decent jobs and a permanent residence in a nicer neighbourhood than the homeless fellows," said Hank.

"What is the time frame?" asked Renard. Whoever it was had been busy, considering he, Renard, hadn't been out of town in his attempts to track down Sebastian and any major serial killer case would have been enough to call him back to the office.

"The autopsy on the homeless guys said they hadn't been dead for more than twelve hours tops, but the call about the other two bodies came in less than two hours ago," said Hank.

Nick decided to step into the conversation, turning away from the door and straining his eyes on the drawer emitting buzzing sounds. It seemed that one of Renard's contacts was trying to call him back. Renard glanced to the drawer but gave a slight shake of his head. Now was not the time, they had a job to do. "A witness managed to identify one possible perpetrator running away from the second crime scene shortly before he called us," said Nick.

"And you managed to find him so quickly?" Asked Renard, a hint of surprise in his voice and the Captain straightened his back, his eyes taking on a bit more shine at the prospect of a case being close to solved on the first day of investigation.

Nick shook his head. "Got a tip from Rosalee," he said. "A foreign guy showed up at the spice shop asking for calming herbs but she got a vibe that something was off."

"Is he a confirmed Wesen?" Asked Renard. It would certainly explain the need for help if was a natural enemy to a Fuchsbau.

"Not as far as I could tell," said Nick. "He didn't woge and he was in complete control of his emotions. Kind of like how you kept the whole Zauberbeist thing a secret."

It wasn't an accusation, Renard could hear it in his tone, but it was more about how he had kept Nick in the dark for so long. Granted, it was for his own good, but it felt better knowing they had each other's backs when needed.

"So we can safely assume that he is either working with someone else or is somehow incredibly angry yet somehow manages to keep his feelings in check. Which doesn't add up with the herbs," said Renard.

"It would certainly clear up a few things, but what are the chances that he is a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen with a heart big enough to help a rampant Wesen?" Asked Hank. It was obvious he would be slightly put out by the fact that another Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen would help a criminal to the point where he would be willing to go to jail for his partner.

"As far as I know, it is highly unlikely unless he did it for family," said Renard. "We aren't exactly known for our compassion, so unless the Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen is a very good friend, the chances are slim."

They shared a sigh, annoyed by the possibility of a rampaging Wesen and an accomplice desperate to keep his friend's secret while having no knowledge of the Grimm breathing down their necks.

"But you are sure he has a Wesen connection?" Asked Renard, fumbling for the file underneath the pile of cases undergoing investigation.

"Absolutely sure," said Nick. "Something about him made my Grimm senses go haywire, like they contradicted with my human emotions and didn't know how to respond …"

Renard lost his composure and faltered for a second. "What did it feel like?" He asked. His voice had taken on a scratchy quality and his right hand was gripping the handle to his locked drawer. It would require certain amount of intel before he relayed even the slightest bit of info to Nick and the others. He had to be sure.

"My first thought was to run but then my Grimm instincts told me to be wary but also to help him. To be honest I felt unsure how to react, I kind of wanted to shoot him but I also felt vulnerable …" Nick was rambling now. The experience had thrown him off course and for the first time he wondered if there were other things out there beside Wesen. Things that could make cold sweat appear by just locking eyes with the creature.

Renard was halfway out of his chair, one leg bend as if he was trying to stand up but stopped at Nick's explanation. Even Hank didn't question his actions, used to the Captain take on a distinct look as he stormed through his mind palace to find a plausible reason for the situation. Renard didn't share his findings as he stood up in full figure, his towering height looming over the two confused detectives.

"What do you plan on doing with him now?" Asked Renard, all previous distraction lacking from his demeanor. He had lost the tired bags under his eyes and he had his trenchcoat in one hand, the other still resting on the handle of the locked drawer.

"Interrogate him and see if he woges," said Nick.

"That won't do," said Renard. "If my assumptions are correct then it will be better to let him stew for the night. If he didn't talk before, he won't talk now, but when he realizes we are going to keep him locked up, he'll be begging to get out to his friend."

Nick could see the reasoning as the teen had made good use of his rights to remain silent but by letting him go for the night, there was the risk of more murders.

"I was wondering if we could bring Monroe and Rosalee in tomorrow, have them check the guy for any signs of Wesen activity or if they recognize him with the hood all the way down," said Nick, hoping the Captain would agree.

"You do that, I need to make some calls and see what I can find," said Renard.

"Don't we need at least another reason than his boots to keep him?" Asked Hank. Sure, he was all up for interrogating the prickly teenager, but it still had to be done properly on the paper. In case he turned out not to be Wesen.

"You said he was foreign, didn't you? Did he have any papers on him?" Asked Renard. Nick shook his head. The teen had been carrying no wallet, no ID and certainly not anything that seemed even remotely American.

"Then it seems we have ourselves an illegal immigrant messing with our investigation," said Renard. Nick and Hank noticed a dismissal when they heard one and closed the door behind them.

Renard groaned. His cousin and the lack of Sebastian's regular updates was enough trouble for at least a month and now something else was stirring. Something bigger and more dangerous than the threat of the Verrat and the distrust of the Resistance.

"Why is it always Portland?"


	4. You Have Yours And We Have Ours

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><p>You Have Yours And We Have Ours<p>

Chapter III

Portland Police Department was busier than usual that particular Monday morning. Even Wu had stopped with his barrage of snarky comments about every little thing and the Captain was more subdued than usual. He had spent the first two hours of his working day behind a closed door in his office, his arsenal of languages ranging from quiet whispering to loud booming insults. Or at least, that's what most of the officers guessed he was saying.

Nick came strolling in through the double doors, an extra large mug of coffee in one hand and the folder of their current serial murder case in the other.

"What's up?" Asked Hank, rubbing his eyes. It was still way too early for his liking, not to mention his alarm clock had disturbed more than just his sleep.

"Not much," grumbled Nick and Hank laughed. While Nick had earned a few extra qualities since his 'lazarus rising' he was still not a morning person unless he had had at least three cups of coffee with an extra shot of caffeine in each one of them.

Nick slammed down the folder of scattered paper and sat down in the chair at his desk, turning so he was facing Hank before he said anything else.

"Remind me again why we have this job?" Asked Nick and downed the last meager contents of his cup. Hank leaned back and his chair squeaked in protest at the sudden movement.

"'Cause it makes your _other job_ that much easier to explain," provided Hank. Nick hung his head in defeat and turned on the power button to his computer.

"So, did you get Monroe and Rosalee to come to the station?" Asked Hank, looking for a topic of conversation that didn't need to be hush hush while they were on the job.

Nick skimmed through his inbox before he answered. Spam mails were at large and the tech team was currently trying to find out who sold their work emails to the public. Nick's brow twitched at one in particular.

_Are you hallucinating? Why not try the new magic cream by Kelly G. and watch your fears disappear!_

Nick sighed, not wanting to dwell on the implications of the name or the product. He shifted his focus from the computer screen and down to his phone, pulling forward the message from Monroe he had received earlier that morning. Nick tossed the cell to Hank and he saw the man's eyes skim the context as fast as possible. Perhaps it was a cop thing to get things done quickly? Nick shrugged and moaned at the realization that he had emptied his third cup of coffee a few minutes ago.

_Sure we'll come, Rosie told me about the spice shop. Be there at 9 a.m. - M_

"So they'll be here in about..." started Hank, glancing at his watch to double check the time on his computer. Damn tech team kept programming it wrong. "Ten minutes?" He finished and threw the phone back to Nick who already had one hand open to catch it.

"What do you want to do in the meantime?" Asked Hank, grabbing the folder from Nick's desk and flipping through the pages of their case. He grimaced at the sight of the bodies in the carpark. Him and guts never did blend well.

"I wanted to see how our _potential perp_ is doing, but the Captain told us to leave him alone, so that's a no go I guess..." said Nick. "Speaking of which, how is Renard doing?" He asked and cocked his head towards the closed door to the Captain's office.

Hank gave an exaggerated shiver. "Not good, I'm afraid. He's been yelling foreign curses or whispering conspiratorially on the phone ever since I came in and Wu says he began way before that."

"I feel sorry for the poor buggers on the other end," said Nick and was tempted to bring a hand up to shield his ears from the onslaught of curses emitting from the office. Sometimes he wished he didn't have super hearing; maybe the power to detect coffee from a long distance would be more useful?

No. Probably not.

Nick could already hear his mother berating him in his mind for even thinking that thought. She weighed the powers that would actually help in a fight more than those of necessity. Logic, she had told him once. Nick pushed back another sigh. To him, coffee was the very essence of logic.

"Two minutes till the cavalry arrives," said Hank and grabbed his brown leather jacket from the back of his swivelling chair. "Do you want to wait for them out front?"

Nick nodded. His mind had been wandering for the last couple of days, an uneasy feeling that he couldn't place had caused his brain to have a minor meltdown. He lost focus easily and he was currently on a diet of eight cups of coffee a day to keep his mind going.

Nick didn't bring his jacket with him, he couldn't really feel the difference anyway, but rather grabbed his cup and went for a refill before they stood by the elevator just past the double doors that led to the precinct.

"It's nine now," said Hank, glaring at his watch as if he was daring it to show it was lying.

Nick didn't get the chance to answer before the elevator _dinged_ and the doors slid aside, revealing a tired looking Rosalee and a beaming Monroe.

"Hey Nick, Hank," said Monroe, letting Rosalee get out of the cramped elevator before letting himself out. "Are there always lot's of people or is it just on Mondays?" He asked after an elderly man grumbled at him for accidentally tripping over his cane on the way out of the elevator. Luckily the old man disappeared behind the gleaming metal doors before any of them started chuckling at the clumsy display.

Hank was the first to breathe properly after his chuckling fit and graced Monroe with an answer to his previous question. "Mondays usually means everyone comes in to report stolen goods and the likes. Petty theft always booms on Sundays," said Hank, guiding them pass the doors and through the corridor. Nick hung back with Rosalee while Monroe and Hank started discussing Hank's watch and his fear of it needing a repair sooner rather than later.

"Are you okay?" Asked Rosalee the moment Nick started yawning halfway through a mouthful of lukewarm coffee.

"Yeah," said Nick, wiping away the drops of coffee that had managed to escape from his mouth. "I just can't seem to wrap my brain around things at the moment," he said. Rosalee frowned and before she had the chance to go mother hen and check his temperature, Wu walked past them. At first Nick didn't notice Wu had stopped until he saw what – or rather _who_ - Wu was staring at.

Monroe.

Monroe, from his first Wesen case and who Nick had accused of being a child kidnapper. The first Blutbad he had had the honour of meeting and one of the people that Wu had no idea he was associating himself with outside working hours.

Hank and Monroe were still walking towards 'Interrogation 1', discussing what hands would look best on the pocket watch Hank kept at home and neither had noticed the curious look on Wu's face. Nick felt his blood freeze for a moment before he briskly picked up his pace with Rosalee sharp on his heels. Ten steps further down the hall, Nick looked back to see Wu shaking his head.

Wu couldn't put a name to the face. Thank God.

"What was that all about?" Asked Rosalee, having picked up on his brief surprise and lack of forethought that Wu and Monroe might eventually cross paths again.

"Long story..." said Nick and stopped behind Hank and Monroe who had paused in front of the door to the interrogation room.

"Everyone ready?" Asked Hank. Monroe nodded while Rosalee was a bit more hesitant.

"He can't see us, right?" She asked, biting her lip. It wouldn't do any good if the foreigner knew it was her who had made the call to Nick and he turned out to be a non-Wesen. Though, she had no doubt the young man would be able to figure it out anyway.

Another pair of feet slamming down on the marble floor joined them. "No," said Renard, answering Rosalee's question. "There will be glass between you, so you can see him but he won't be able to see you," he said. Nick was close to asking what the Captain was doing down in interrogation when Renard beat him to it.

"I decided this warrants my attention, so I'll be behind the glass as well," he said, leaving no room for argument from any of them. "Three Wesen are better than two," he reasoned.

Hank shrugged and Nick opened the door to room number 1, trusting Renard to lead Monroe and Rosalee to the glass section.

The black-haired teen was wearing a sneer that could easily have been on the face of a Blutbad but his eyes held more rage than a Drang-Zorn during puberty.

"Why am I still here? You have no right to detain me," he said and pulled at the handcuffs that kept him chained to the table. Nick closed the door behind them before he calmly seated himself while Hank leaned against the wall, enjoying the impatience on the foreigner's face.

"I believe you have some explaining to do," said Nick. Neither he nor Hank had brought the current case file with them and they were relying on the teen's will to give them new leads. There was nothing concrete other than his shoes to tie him to the case - besides a description that could fit just about any Chinese or Japanese tourist.

"I think you'll find that I do not," answered the teen, the sneer leaving his face to be replaced by a mask of indifference. Hank leaned forward, both hands on the table as he breached the foreigner's personal space.

"What were you doing in the parking lot?" Asked Hank. The teen narrowed his eyes, black bangs falling in front of his face as he opted not to answer the detective. Nick coughed and the foreigner shifted his glare to Nick.

"Let's start with something simple then," said Nick. "What is your name?"

The teen scoffed and threw back his head. "If you don't already know, you don't deserve that information," he answered.

The foreigner was posh with his words but his rude attitude contradicted violently with his fine posture. It reminded Nick of a younger Renard.

"Why were you at the scene of the crime?" Tried Hank again, undeterred.

"I don't know what you are talking about," said the foreigner.

"Then why do we have a witness placing you at the murder scene, standing over two mauled victims and then fleeing when you notice someone watching you?"

"I was not at the scene of the crime," insisted the teen, grinding his teeth as he spat out the words through a clenched jaw. "But if I had been, do you think I could possibly have _mauled _two people with my bare hands?"

Nick scowled and Hank tilted back from the table, his hands resting at his sides in mock defeat. Nick rose from the wobbly plastic chair and opened the door again. "We'll be back," he said and saw a distinct lack of surprise on the teenager's face. It was obvious he didn't expect the interrogation to end so soon, but he managed to shield what surprise he was feeling from the spectators of the outside world.

The door squeaked and howled as it closed with painfully slow movements but Nick and Hank walked resolutely from 'Interrogation 1'. Nick could see Hank wanted to ask about Wesen activity but he refrained from doing so until they had entered the small glass walled room.

"That wasn't much to go on," said Renard before Hank had a chance to ask. Renard was currently sitting on a plastic table with a stack of cups and a small can of fizzy water, one leg dangling in the air and his arms crossed with a scowl to match.

"Was there anything Wesen about that guy?" Asked Hank, directing his question towards Nick who shook his head in response.

"I got nothing," he said.

Monroe and Rosalee looked doubtful as well. "There wasn't a clear scent but I couldn't smell a thing off about him, so my guess is he's human," said Monroe. Renard grunted in agreement. Nick sighed; so no Zauberbeist, no Blutbad and certainly no Grimm reaction so far.

Rosalee was twitching slightly in her seat, another plastic chair seated in front of the large glass window. "When he was at the spice shop, his eyes turned red," she whispered, as if she was afraid the teen on the other side of the glass would hear her.

Renard nearly fell down from the table and Monroe snapped his head back towards Rosalee.

"Are you sure?" Asked Monroe, his eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing, unsure what to say next or how to react. Renard, too, was flabbergasted as he glancing from Rosalee to the teen and back again.

Rosalee nodded and whimpered as her Fuchsbau came to the surface under the amount of stress she was is, not to mention the sudden tension in the room.

"What?" Asked Hank, and Nick shared his confusion.

"What does red eyes mean? Another Blutbad?" He continued and Renard cleared his throat.

"No," said Renard and pulled out something from the inside of his pocket. A tattered leather journal. He had a specific page dog-eared and he snapped the book open.

"There is an old myth," he said. "Wesen actually, about something older than the Royals and the Grimms,"

"I know it!" Said Monroe. "My grandmother used to hum this song when I was younger and scared of a Grimm coming to get me," he laughed.

"My mother used to sing it to me too," said Renard. "My great grandmother wrote it down and I had the forethought to bring it here today," he said and waved the journal in his hand. By the look on Nick's face, he elaborated. "I had a suspicion but I wasn't sure, though the notion of the red eyes does confirm some of my fears."

"Such as?" Asked Nick.

"The red eyes makes it quite possible for the young man next door to be an Uchiha," said Renard.

"A what now?" Exclaimed Hank.

"An Uchiha," continued Monroe. "I was once told that all Grimms originated from the Uchihas,"

Nick was quite sure his brain wasn't going to wander now that a subject about his heritage had been breached. From all the research locked away inside the trailer, nothing had spoken of how the Grimms came to be, only that they were named after the Brothers Grimm.

"The Uchihas were sort of pro-Wesen and the first ones to actually _see_, and later on, that ability passed on to some of those who opposed Wesen. That faction of the clan later became known as Grimms," said Monroe. Rosalee murmured an agreement, having shifted back from a nervous Fuchsbau to a shop owner once again at the prospect of a more pragmatic explanation.

"I didn't grow up with those stories," said Rosalee. "My parents were a bit more new-age."

"Makes sense," said Monroe and Renard nodded.

"What does the song say, then?" Asked Hank, his curiosity peaking and Nick found himself eager to hear it as well. It was a piece of Wesen history that wasn't recorded in any way, shape or form in any of the Grimm records.

Monroe started humming, a soft tune of something simple yet alluring and Renard held up the book, words falling from the tip of his tongue as if he had spoken and heard it a million times before. Nick realized that he probably had.

_Thou may fear the bloody and the Grimm,_

_And thou may fall to the eyes of dread._

_By thy birthright, listen to my hymn,_

_King and Guard shall take thy stead._

_By the power of the Ninth,_

_Grimm it may be,_

_A war shall ignite,_

_So Beasts can be free._

_But thy blood shall not fall,_

_Nor shall thy magick wane,_

_Nor shall there be any squall,_

_For the Ninth King's bane._

_So long as the Crown devours the Grimm,_

_So long shall Beasts be free of all sin._

_- Kenshin Uchiha, 896. (Royal Guard of the Ninth.)_

Renard closed the book with a gentle gesture and looked up from the blue ink on the yellowed pages. Monroe was holding hands with Rosalee with a smile on his face and the Fuchsbau was more at ease with the Blutbad so near.

Hank was quiet, and Nick was contemplating what he had just heard. It was basically a death sentence for a Grimm if this 'prediction' came true.

"Was the war in the song the actual Wesen war from a couple of centuries ago?" Asked Nick.

"Most Wesen believed so, but when the Ninth King didn't show, the song sort of disappeared from Wesen history," said Renard. "It would also explain why Rosalee hadn't heard about it before now; not everyone was content about the winners."

Monroe took the lead again and cut off the Captain. "Well, yeah! I mean - not every Grimm is as open minded as you, Nick," he said, stroking the back of Rosalee's hand.

"But what does it mean?" Asked Nick. "A Ninth King? I thought there were only seven Royal families?"

Renard glanced at the teen behind the glass. The foreigner didn't move as much as a muscle sitting in the plastic chair, hands cuffed to the table.

"I was once told that before any of the seven Royal families there was a Wesen King," said Renard. "The first Royal to ever have existed, but no one knows if the story is true or not."

Hank was intrigued. Not only was he witness to a piece of forgotten history, but it also proved that he was a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen with incredible privileges.

"To be honest, I believe that most Wesen lost faith in a Royal Wesen when the war turned sour," said Renard.

"But if there was a Wesen King once, then how come no one knows about it today?" Asked Nick. It didn't make sense why Wesen would so easily forget about such an important part of their history.

"Perhaps the lineage died out, or they went into hiding?" Supplied Hank from the sidelines.

"Perhaps," said Renard. "Or perhaps they never existed," he said.

"Except we have living proof on the other side of the glass," countered Monroe, jabbing his thumb at the brooding teenager.

"Indeed," said Renard, his eyes taking on a glint of both curiosity and sadness. "The Guard of the Ninth King; a rarity in itself."

"How do you know he's the Guard? Doesn't he seem a bit too young to live life as a bodyguard or is it just me?" Asked Hank. "He can't be more in his early twenties or something."

"That's just the problem," answered Monroe. "Since no one knew they still existed, no one would have any idea how their part of the Wesen community worked,"

Rosalee had changed her way of looking at the teen and know her interest was directed on the young man trying to make a discreet escape out of his handcuffs. Renard tapped the glass and the teen immediately stopped, his eyes narrowing as he glared daggers at the glass.

"Why would he ask for such a powerful concoction if it wasn't for himself… What's he doing in Portland?" She asked, more to herself than to anyone else.

"The only reason I can think of is his Royal," said Renard. The reasoning sounded absurd, even in his own head, but a small part of him still held on to that blind faith his mother had instilled in him.

"You really think so?" Asked Nick. "If they haven't let themselves be known for over a thousand years, then why now?"

"I don't know," Renard frowned. Even with the intel he had managed to gather over the last night and the vast amount of favours he had had to call in to get the leather journal by morning were countless and infuriating. If Wesen history on Grimms were vague, then the rumours about the Royal Wesen were even worse.

"I'll go in there with you," said Renard and cocked his head towards the glass. If the teen wouldn't break under the stress of a Grimm, then a Royal Zauberbeist could at least give it a try.

"But is he a Wesen, then?" Asked Nick.

"No, he is just as much a human as you are, Nick," answered Renard and gestured for Monroe and Rosalee to stay in the room. They could still help and look for different reactions. Besides, they knew more about typical Wesen behaviour than any of them.

Hank closed the door behind them. "Do we go in, or what?" Renard had stopped, pausing at the small intersection before the interrogation room and the 'view' room.

"Let me be clear that our goal right now is to provoke the Uchiha into giving up his real name and letting us see his _red eyes_. Any knowledge we gain from beyond that point will be new and unrecorded up till now."

Nick agreed. If the foreigner knew they had an inkling of an idea about who he really was, he was likely to either clam up or spill the beans; and looking back at their previous encounters, he was most definitely not going to talk. Still, it was worth a shot.

"I agree. We go at him without giving up too much," said Nick.

Hank shrugged. For now, it wasn't his battle to fight. Sure, as a detective he was going to do his job, but if it turned out to be more Wesen related, he was comfortable enough to let Nick and the Captain deal with all the weird shit. He was only human after all.

"If he doesn't spill, I'll try with a bit more of a - _Royal_ approach," said Renard.

Nick shuddered. If the Captain was serious enough about getting information out of this guy, then he would have no quarrel about changing to Zauberbeist and use his status to get what he needed. Which - right now - was information about a possible serial killer and Wesen King. Nick just hoped they had the right guy. Not that he doubted Rosalee's information, but it seemed unlikely that the teen was involved in anything more dangerous than something gang related. He didn't exactly look like the type to get into such a fickle as the one he was in at the moment. The teen seemed to be more interested in his own immediate survival than anything else.

Hank turned the metallic handle to 'Interrogation 1' and entered first, Nick following and Renard coming in last.

If the teen was surprised by the sudden appearance of a Zauberbeist, he wasn't showing it. But then again, he hadn't exactly shown any reaction to a Grimm either.

"Why were you at the second scene of the crime?" Asked Renard. Nick kept to the background and Hank prowled around in the back, entering the teen's blind spots and watching the foreigner as he tried to adjust in the chair. It was obvious that the teen had had some sort training and was accustomed to combat to a certain degree.

It was a test Nick and Hank had often used when dealing with perpetrators they suspected of having a relationship with the more gray area of the law. If they didn't care about Nick or Hank in their blind spot, then they either had no connection to the rougher parts of a case or they were the brains behind the brawns. However, if they did react - just like teen in front of them - then the perpetrator had some knowledge of fighting or of the darker parts of society in Portland. No fighter would willingly let an enemy enter their blind spots.

"I already told your other two detectives that I was not at the scene of _any_ crime," said the teen, drawing a bit on the last words as if he believed them to be stupid enough to ask the same question twice.

"Then what is your name?" Asked Renard. The trenchcoat wearing man was still standing - in fact, all three of them were refraining from taking a seat in front of the teen now that they were sure of some sort of Wesen connection. It would be dangerous to get in the way of someone who looked human but could attack without as much as a warning to accompany him with. Renard knew that the teen could have broken out of the cuffs if he had wanted but had chosen not to.

This was a game of cat and mouse.

If the Royal Wesen was on the loose and his Guard was trying to track him down, it would make sense why the foreigner had stayed. It was a classic tactic when you know your opponent holds more information than yourself. I give you a cookie and you give me a cookie.

Mutual dependance.

"What does it matter?" Asked the teen. Nick could see the young man trying vehemently to not twist his head and glare at the stalking Hank behind him. Nick could hear Hank's footfalls loud as thunder and judging by the expression on the teen's face; so could he. Interesting.

"Because I would like a first name to go with the last," said Renard before his face was overtaken by a smirk. The teen started in the wobbly chair and glared directly at the Captain, seemingly forgetting about Hank and not giving a damn about Nick.

"I strongly believe I did not give up my last name," said the teen.

"That may be so, but I can assure you that my detectives are fully capable of managing their job," said Renard. "And that includes the names of reluctant perpetrators."

"You seem to be convinced that I had something to do with the murders," said the foreigner, dismissing the fact that they had let him know about his last name but not his first.

"Why else would you hold back information that could possibly help us break through this case?" Reasoned Renard. The Captain could understand the teen's reluctance about helping them, not knowing who to trust especially if a Royal _was_ involved and by the reaction of the teen, there was. You don't tell cops about a potential Wesen killer and you certainly don't ask them for help.

"Look," said Renard, growing tired of the facades he could so clearly see the young man was trying to keep from breaking. "I understand your concern regarding the safety of yourself and your Royal,"

Renard didn't manage to say anything else before the teen bolted upright in the chair, his eyes angry instead of fearful as Renard had suspected.

"If you know of my Royal, then why am I still being kept in here?" He sneered, directing his question towards Nick instead of the Captain. It made sense that the teen would seek out the one that had done the arrest and since Hank wasn't in his line of vision, the smoldering glare was now locked on the quiet Grimm standing in the corner.

"You aren't exactly cooperating," said Nick and stalked forward to the table. If Renard was going to let the brat behave like he thought he had every right to be out on the street, walking among the ordinary people who had no idea about Wesen, then he could think again. Not on his watch.

"I don't need to," said the teen, his eyes carrying a hint of red in their depths. Good, at least it meant some progress.

"I think you'll find that you do," countered Nick, slamming his hands down on the table. Renard chose that moment to blend in with the shadows and left the teen to Nick, content enough with merely listening. "If you had looked after your Royal just a little bit better, then we might not have had to look at five dead bodies and the count is still going up." If Nick couldn't get through to the foreigner with the usual tactics, he didn't have a problem pulling the guilt card.

"That's five families losing someone they love and who can't be replaced. They'll have to live with the knowledge that the deaths could have been avoided if some careless teenager hadn't been shit at doing his job," said Nick. He could feel his frustration bubble over, the Grimm instinct inside him telling to let everything loose and chuck it at the idiot in front of him. Or maybe it was his cop instincts. It was hard to tell the difference when it wasn't a Wesen in the plastic chair.

"You have no idea what you are talking about!" Hissed the teen, knocking the chair over in his hasty process of getting up to eye-level with a standing Nick. Instead of the calm gray he had been staring straight into for the last fifteen minutes, the Grimm was greeted by a murky red. Bloody and whirling with three black commas in each of them. The colour changing eyes put Nick on edge and he found himself shivering at the sight of those eyes directed at him. He was pretty sure he would have been sweating if not for his half zombie state that made it virtually impossible to perspirate.

Nick kept himself leaning over at the table, hearing the breath of the young man accelerate as he breathed in through his nose and let out hot, steaming breaths of barely concealed anger through his mouth. Behind the foreigner, Hank had jumped back in fright at the teen's fast movement, nearly falling over the chair that had been sent his way. Nick didn't regret still having the teen chained to the table.

Renard stepped forward and Nick looked at his Captain, shivering at what he saw. The skin looked torn and cracked only to have been sown together again at a later point. Nick knew that it was the Zauberbeist in Renard that had leapt out at the sight of those red eyes, but even though he had the knowledge of what his Captain was, Nick still had problems coming to terms with it.

Either Hank couldn't see that their Captain had just woged out of pure stress, or else he was ignoring it. Nick didn't dare ask him which one was the correct answer.

"Then explain it to us," said Renard.

Nick had never heard the Captain speak while he was still in his Wesen form, always changing back after a brief display of power, but this time Renard hadn't bothered to change back and it could be heard in his voice. Instead of the usual lax but still brittle tone that demanded attention, his voice had changed to a deep baritone and it sounded a lot more like a roaring waterfall than the calm and collected police Captain the Grimm had come to know.

"Give me one good reason why I should tell you," said the teen in response to Renard's question. Once again he astounded Nick by not giving an open sign of discomfort at the Captain's twisted face and if Nick didn't know any better, he would have said that the foreigner didn't know Renard had woged. But Nick did know better, and the small twitch of the teen's eye had told the Grimm that the foreigner had seen the change as well but had chosen not to act upon it. Very interesting indeed.

"Because you have no reason not to," argued Renard, but he could see the young man's point. He had been in the same position once, unsure who to trust and believing that no one was capable of helping him because of all the secrets and lies he had been forced to tell. "But the least you can do for us, is to trust us,"

The teen raised a delicate eyebrow, as if to say _why?_

Renard caught the hint and continued, letting Nick seep away from the table and withdraw his hands to their rightful position beside his body instead of on the cold table. "It isn't exactly everyday you see a Grimm, a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen and a bastard Royal in the same room. Least of all, working together," said Renard. He could feel the slight change of the teenager by the way his eyes turned just a tad bit warmer than the seconds before. The young man was obviously contemplating the new information.

If Renard had told him that bit of info mere minutes ago it would have been a risky move on their behalf. If the foreigner had turned out not to be involved in the whole Wesen action and they had merely had a stroke of luck with their questions, they would appear as if they were nutcases with guns. Granted, they all had to be a little insane to work together, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. And if the teen was truly connected to the Wesen world, then Renard had just given him enough information to confirm the partnership between the Royal of Portland and the Grimm inside his territory.

The teen was clicking his tongue before he suddenly turned his red eyes to focus directly at Renard once again, his black pupils unmistakably focused and rather frightening.

"My Royal was given his status less than two months ago when the old King died," said the teen. His voice was low and monotone but while his eyes had been guarded before, they now shone with a few emotions that Nick couldn't quite place. It was strange to see the sudden change but the Grimm could see the foreigner was more at ease talking about something he knew.

"At first it was painful but he had had it worse and he pulled through, despite a few mishaps. But suddenly, three weeks ago, the new King disappeared from our home village and I followed him," said the foreigner. "I had noticed a change in him. He was more violent than usual and the woges were both random and abrupt in no established pattern. Then one day, he was just gone … He is my responsibility and no one else's. If I can't even manage to keep him safe from himself, then who can?" The teen didn't ask anyone in particular and appeared more focused on his own failures than the other three people in the room.

Renard knew that look all too well. The foreigner was caught up in his own stream of memories and he was blaming himself for the Royal's takeoff.

"You said he was given his status," said Renard, tearing the teen away from his reminiscing. "Does that mean it is not passed from father to son?" He continued, more to himself than the teen.

"No," said the teen. "The King before mine had been alive for centuries, if not millennias,"

The small room of 'Interrogation 1' suddenly didn't seem befitting of the discussion within it, with a talk of ancient kings and lost friends. Nick couldn't shake the feeling that something so old and powerful should have made the Grimm Records at some point but even if the Ninth King hadn't entered the archives of the Grimms before, Nick would make sure that that would happen soon enough.

"The title of Ninth King and the power that follows, can only be given to the one that the previous King finds worthy enough to be his successor," said the teen. Nick was sure that if the foreigner could, he would have crossed his arms to create some sort of wall between them but the handcuffs made it impossible for the young man to do so. As much as he was sharing some sort of information with the three of them, it was clear that he didn't trust them completely. And no wonder, Nick could relate. He wouldn't be feeling all too sharing if he had been in the teen's position.

"That does make sense," said Renard. Nick hadn't noticed when the Captain had woged back, but the man's face was smooth as he scratched his chin in thought. For a brief moment, Nick wondered how the Captain would look with a goatee but quickly shook the thought from his head. Bad brain, wandering off again without his permission.

"Is there a reason your Royal was given his status on such a short notice?" Asked Renard, obviously not satisfied with the tidbits of information they had been fed.

"The former King was old and he had seen a lot of things that he would rather forget," said the teen. Nick could hear he sounded more relaxed, his breathing pattern at ease but his posture still reeked of distrust. "By giving up his title, he was granted peace in death."

Hank finally emerged from the shadows behind the young man's back, adding his two cents. "And he just rolled over and died? No protests?" He asked, the mustache on his upper lip jumping in tact with the words coming from his mouth.

The foreigner sighed, taking his time before answering Hank's question as if he couldn't quite decide how to put his next words into a properly constructed sentence. "To be honest, the protest mainly came from my Royal. The former King was like a father to him and without him there would be no more family," he said with finality, effectively closing the subject from further prying. Nick squinted his eyes - it was certainly something worth pursuing at another time.

"Fair enough," said Renard, agreeing to the temporary closure.

The room was quiet except the breathing of the four men in the cramped room, all with different rhythms and the amount of air they heaved down in their lungs varied from person to person. A knock resounded and Nick had heard the footfalls outside the room even before Wu opened the door with a horrified expression on his usually lax face.

"What?" Asked Renard, turning his full attention towards the out of breath sergeant who had barged through the door without waiting for confirmation. Wu took a few gasps of air, sweat obvious on his brow, adding to the belief that he had run down to 'Interrogation 1' to fetch all three of them.

"There's been an attempted murder," he wheezed. One of hand was clutching the door frame in a futile attempt at gaining some form of balance by leaning against it, while his other hand held a suspiciously thin folder. There was high chance it contained all the recent information on the newest attack and had therefore not had the chance to be sorted with the older - and thicker - folder.

"A jogger was out on her morning run on the hiking trail west of here," said Wu. The poor man was still gulping air down in his lungs as if he had been underwater for ten minutes. Which Nick believed often was the reaction of someone in a hurry. "She was knocked out but something must have spooked her attacker because this time, the victim survived…"

Renard found himself acting without thinking, his instincts as a Captain kicking in. "Where is she now?" He asked. Wu glanced at the teen behind Renard with hesitation, unsure whether or not to answer the question in front of someone who demanded the attention of two of their best detectives and the Captain himself. It took Wu all of two seconds to decide that he could care less. If the Captain was okay with it, then so was he.

"General hospital," said Wu. "Another jogger heard the victim scream and was smart enough to backtrack the route and call 911."

"Good. Hank, I want you to go to the hospital, talk to the victim and see what you can find. The hospital isn't that far off, so call me as soon as you get something useful," said Renard. Hank muttered a distinct _got it_ before he squeezed himself past Wu and out of the door. "Nick, you and I will check the hiking trail - there is a chance the perpetrator is still out there, which means that whatever had spooked him is also hiding out there."

Nick nodded in response. He could already feel the adrenaline start to course through his body. He was definitely ready for it.

If the teen had been scrambling with his handcuffs before, he was downright frantic now.

"I'm coming with you," said the foreigner, his hands tugging uselessly at the cuffs.

Nick could see emotions welling up in the young man's eyes. At some point, they had returned to a steely gray and while they had been guarded during most of the interrogation, it was disconcerting to see the same clammed up guy turn into a nerve wreck at the prospect of finding his Royal. Nick was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the body count still going up - the guy had barely reacted when they had played the guilt card and his emotions only came on display whenever the Royal was mentioned.

Nick looked back at Renard. The Grimm sure as hell wasn't going to make the decision that could either make or break this already thin case, but a small nod and a sharp look from the Captain was all it took for Nick to retrieve the key from within his pocket. The Grimm didn't doubt that the only thing keeping the foreigner from manually breaking out of the cuffs, was the prospect of more information along the way if he temporarily stayed with them.

"I don't even want to know..." grumbled Wu while handing the thin file to Renard and stalking away from the door, back to the desks and perhaps a cup of steaming hot coffee.

The foreigner was already pelting towards the door but Renard stopped him by throwing out an arm and blocking the black-haired teen's route to the outside world. "Hang on just for a second," said Renard. The teen looked up at Renard, a glare mere inches from the Captain's own face. He hadn't exactly noticed how tall the teen was, but standing in front of a pissed off Renard, Nick could see the similarities in both height and personality.

"Our investigation, our rules," said Renard, glaring straight back at the stubborn teen.

"Fine," he said and crossed his arms. "What are we waiting for, then? The more time we spent cooped up in here, the bigger the chance that my Royal won't be there when we show up,"

"You haven't given us your name yet," said Nick. The Grimm could see the distrust Renard held for the young man and it was a clear sign that the feeling was mutual when the teen had practically 'forgotten' to mention his own name. And it hadn't passed neither Nick nor Renard's attention that the foreigner had avoided saying the Royal's name as well.

With a scowl, the teen gave in. "My name is Sasuke Uchiha."


	5. The Foreigner Hymns A Song For The Lost

**I am terribly sorry for the delay. I have no excuse, as I simply forgot that it was Friday :I**

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><p>The Foreigner Hymns A Song For The Lost<p>

Chapter IV

It was quite different taking the Captain's car out to a possible crime scene. Nothing even remotely like Nick's beat up old hummer, which swallowed about as much gas as the universe itself. There was something extraordinary about arriving in a sleek black car and exiting with the Captain of the police station as if you were casual friends about to go to the local coffee shop.

One thing stood out amongst the trail of grit and gravel besides the notion of an expensive car actually appearing anywhere near said hiking trail. The blue blinks and wailing sirens disturbed the peaceful wildlife and the young man exiting from the same car as Portland Police Department's Captain only added to the effect of something being off.

The birds had stopped tweeting and chirping the second they had felt the power of the Ninth, fleeing as fast as their small robin wings could take them - away from the forest and to somewhere safer. It was an instinct ingrained in their very beings and for a short second upon their arrival - Renard had felt it too.

A primal urge to either let everything loose or get the hell away from there. That something was dangerous and poisoning the mind of someone important. Someone like a King.

Renard didn't need to flash his badge at the sergeants keeping a watchful eye near the yellow tape that screamed _crime scene, keep out_ and neither did Nick.

A couple of the sergeants did eye the teenager with wary, unsure whether or not he was allowed to be there but a glare from Renard told them the story. _Back off, he is allowed here_.

It was strangely curious for the Zauberbeist to watch the reaction of the teenager as they strolled past the tape and hit the spot with dry, caked blood mixed with dust and other debris from the forest floor.

Sasuke stopped short of the blood spatter by a few steps. Both Renard and Nick waited for the teen to catch up but he held his ground with closed eyes. Nick could hear the young man even out his breathing before he opened his eyes again and stepped forward, closing the gap between himself and the proof of a crime having taken place. Sasuke had turned his eyes red again and Nick found himself avoiding the teen's gaze. For whatever the reason, Sasuke had deemed it important enough to pull out his strange powers and he was scanning the ground with such rapid glares, Nick had trouble not getting dizzy.

"He's been here," said Sasuke. He had kneeled down, his fingers softly tracing a line in the grit as if he could read the grains of gravel and decide from there.

Renard nodded. "Do you think he could have gone far?" He asked, one hand in his pocket, fumbling with his phone. They were still awaiting a call from Hank with updates on the last victim. Rumour had it she had been sent to the hospital with superficial scratches and a concussion, but so far, Hank had yet to confirm it.

"No," said Sasuke. "There's more blood here than from just the victim …"

The blood spatter was separated into two larger puddles, one further away from the other, suggesting that the Royal took a good blow as well.

"I'm pretty sure a jogger couldn't have caused that amount of spilled blood, no matter how good of a shape they are in," commented Nick. It was true that it seemed unlikely for the jogger to have bled so much and all over the place, but the suggestion that someone else was involved and capable of hurting a Royal Wesen with anger issues did push certain - important - questions forward in the que of all things critical.

"Do you have any enemies from your home area?" Asked Renard, picking up on Nick's line of thought. Nick would have snickered and pulled a joke about how cops tends to think alike if not for the absurdity of the situation.

"No, we took care of them about a year ago," said Sasuke.

Nick reeled back. If 'taken care of' meant murdering someone, then the teen squatting in front of him was as possible to have murdered the other victims as his supposed Royal. If Nick hadn't know any better, he would have strongly believed that the young man _had_ done the Portland murders and had conjured up a fake Royal to cover his tracks - but it contradicted with the fact that Sasuke had spent all of last night locked up in a cell at their own precinct.

Renard didn't seem taken aback by the fact that Sasuke had the potential to kill, and the Captain merely nodded in response. A Royal was often well sought, even if they might just be the heir and no line of succession was certain as of yet, but Renard had had his fair share of assassination attempts for just being alive. It was definitely something he could relate to. Renard had - after all - gotten rid of certain competition himself.

"How do you do that?" Asked Renard. Sasuke looked up, red eyes contrasting greatly to their surroundings and simply waited for the Captain to elaborate. "Your eyes, how do you do that?"

"It's called the Sharingan," said Sasuke, diverting his eyes back to the ground again, unfazed by Renard's sudden question. "It's a family thing,"

"Like a curse?" Asked Nick. He still had trouble coming to terms with the fact that even though it was insanely far out, he was related to the young man with the scaringly red eyes and silent demeanor. Sasuke Uchiha was a piece of history connected to the Grimms and that meant he was connected to Nick, even if the teen was unaware of that fact. They were family, and a family curse was not something Nick was ready to take on.

"No, it's more of a gift _and_ a curse," said Sasuke. His fingers were trailing through the soft gravel again, waiting and watching the shifting of the grit in a gust of wind. "You can achieve the first stage through training alone, provided you are an Uchiha,"

Nick saw Renard shoot him a look of hidden excitement. It was strange to see such a juvenile expression on his usually stoic Captain's face, but Nick knew what Renard was hoping for. There was a small chance that Nick could awaken this so called 'Sharingan' as well.

"But the curse of the Sharingan is often not taken very kindly. To achieve the next level of usage, you are expected to kill the person you care about the most."

Okay, out of the question. Nick would never dream about hurting Juliette. Renard let the joyous expression slip off his face and be replaced by a frown.

"While I can see how that would be a problem, there are always repercussions from using power, am I correct?" Asked Renard. Some of the sergeants from the scene were shooting them curious glances from the sidelines, but no one dared to interrupt them in their talking. The officers were far enough off not to hear them directly and it was possible they thought they were discussing the case. Nick was just more than happy that Sasuke had chosen to sit with his back to the uniformed guys. They would have a hard time explaining red eyes with black swirls to the DA's office.

It was Sasuke's turn to flinch. Renard's question had put him on edge and Nick was certain the teen wasn't going to answer.

"Yes, you turn blind if you use the second stage too much," he said. It was barely a whisper on the wind and the red eyes shone in the soft morning light. Tears. For a short moment, Nick had seen the distinct sheen of tears in the young man's eyes but when the Grimm blinked in surprise, the brief display of open emotions had been crushed by a blank mask of indifference.

"You must take the eyes of a relative and have them implanted to avoid turning blind."

The small refuge provided by the trail of the hiking path didn't help the solemn feeling that overcame all three of them. It could have been the fact that a cloud blocked out the sun at precisely that moment, or it could have been the answer to Renard's question that put Nick on edge. He could barely form his next sentence.

"Have you done it?" Asked Nick. "Did you take the eyes of a relative?" His tongue was tying knots on itself and he felt as if he was literally choking. The thought of taking his own mother's eyes was unrealistic and screamed _wrong_ in every way possible.

"Yes," said Sasuke, his jaw strained and his eyes glaring at the dirt, avoiding the startled looks from both Nick and Renard.

"I killed my older brother and took his eyes."

It wasn't up for discussion and Sasuke didn't elaborate any further. It was another subject off limits but the information they had gathered was enough to have Nick take two steps further away from the teen.

A buzzing sound caught the Grimm off guard until he realized it was his own phone ringing in his pocket. Hank. Always the breaker of awkward and 'just admitted to having murdered someone' breaks.

The Grimm gestured to his phone, silently asking Renard if he could answer the phone. A tiny nod and Nick was basically sprinting away from the patches of blood spatter.

"What have you got?" Asked Nick. He felt more comfortable standing next to a couple of sergeants than the near vicinity of Sasuke.

"Yo! Victim said she was attacked by a teen-"

Either Hank had heard Nick's sharp intake of breath or he knew what his friend was thinking.

"Relax, it wasn't the guy we have locked up,"

"Not exactly locked up anymore," murmured Nick, suddenly aware of all the attention directed on him. The sergeants - with a lack of better things to do - were doing a pretty poor job at attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation. "He calls himself Sasuke and stated his last name as Uchiha,"

The line was empty of noise and any static associated with a car and Nick guessed Hank had found a quiet spot in the hospital to make the call.

"And he sort of begged to be taken out to the new scene and the Captain kind of agreed …"

"Say what now?"

"Yeah, and he also just admitted to murdering his own brother,"

Nick could feel his own mouth turning dry just stating the facts and he was glad he had chosen to go a little further down the trail instead of being overheard by a couple of uniformed guys. Lessened the stress of keeping annoying and disturbing secrets.

"But good news is, Sasuke says his Royal _was_ here. At the crime scene, I mean," said Nick.

"I kinda' figured that," said Hank. The sound of a car door slamming alerted Nick that Hank was on his way and had moved from the quiet hospital floor down to the parking lot. The birds in the city were obviously still chirping and reviving central Portland with happy tweeting instead of being out at a hiking trail, hiding from a violent Wesen.

"Victim's name is Katelyn Simmons, 21 years old and a college student out for an early morning jog when she was attacked by a male teenager in his early twenties," said Hank. His voice sounded metallic over the phone, and it could easily be that stupid little machine Hank always plugged his cell in when driving the car. Made it easier to steer, Hank had said, with both hands on the wheel. "Apparently, the guy came from some sort of side trail from the main path and attacked her. She said it all happened so fast but she managed to get a good glimpse of him before he knocked her down on the ground and she hit her head on a rock. But get this," Hank paused for an added dramatic effect.

"Victim says it's possible she heard a gunshot the moment before she passed out and Wu just called with an updated statement, the other jogger who called the ambulance also heard a gunshot but wasn't sure. Until now, anyway."

Nick frowned. Sasuke had already concluded that no enemy of theirs would have followed them to Portland but this indicated otherwise.

"Any telltale signs besides a possible bullet wound?" Asked Nick. Appearance was good and all, but distinctive features were even better. Especially if the victim could remember that much detail after the fall and a concussion. Nick had to remind himself that for once, the rumour of injuries at the station had been true despite the urgency of the case.

"The guy was wearing a ragged t-shirt, she doesn't remember the colour, and sweatpants. Simmons said he looked like he had been in a recent fight. But what caught her off guard the most was his hair colour," said Hank.

"Hair colour? Blue, pink?"

"No man, blonde like sunshine born yesterday," said Hank in his T-man voice, making absolutely no sense beyond his point of blonde hair. Nick rolled his eyes. Hank always did that when he thought Nick should have figured something out by himself but needed an outstretched hand.

"But something else caught our victim's attention," said Hank, his tone of voice changing to a slightly more excited level. "He had three scars on each cheek, almost like whisker marks and she was certain he was a foreigner just like our own Mr Uchiha,"

"That does clear up some parts, but am I the only one thinking 'whisker-guy' is a bit too young to be a prophesied King?" Asked Nick. It would, however, explain why Sasuke was his bodyguard and not someone with a bit more experience.

Still, Nick had no doubt that Sasuke would be as fierce in protecting 'whisker-guy' as the next Uchiha.

"Could be, but I'm not exactly in a position to answer that," said Hank. "Besides, you just said the guy was cold hearted enough to kill his own brother, right? Man, I so do not wanna' meet that Royal Wesen up close and personal,"

"I second that … but you are already on your way, aren't you?"

"Ten wild horses won't be able to keep me away, partner,"

"See you in the wilderness," said Nick and hung up without waiting for Hank's confirmation. It felt better doing his job with his partner being able to have his back if needed, not feeling too well with leaving his perfectly good health to a psychotic teenager with family issues. Renard didn't count.

Nick slipped the phone back into his pocket, taking a look at his surroundings. The pine trees weren't giving off a glow of blue sirens as the officers had turned off the blaring noise before he had answered Hank. The Grimm was quite grateful he hadn't had the need to yell through the phone to get in touch with his partner.

But something caught his eye.

One of the pine trees - almost at the corner of his vision - had a spot of missing bark. The exposed tree underneath the otherwise rough texture was smooth except a few grazes in the surface. Five small marks to be exact. Five claw marks of something that had used the tree to lean against just like Wu had that morning against the doorframe.

"Renard! Sasuke! I think I found something!" Called Nick, not daring to take his eyes off the tree for fear of losing it in the crowd of almost identical trees. While Nick would admit to having a good memory, it could get confusing to find a pine tree in the middle of a forest of pine trees. The needle in a haystack kind of thing.

Nick could hear Sasuke get up from the gravel, realizing he had wandered pretty close to the original scene of crime. Both Renard and Sasuke held a fast pace in their footfall - not slow but not fast either - more of a strut, if Nick dared say so.

"Where?" Asked Sasuke, bursting through the treeline, his red eyes looking anywhere but Nick.

"That pine tree," Nick gestured to the general direction of the one tree and Renard spotted it before Sasuke, his frantic search delaying his ability to see and think clearly. The Captain approached quickly, and with barely concealed wonder, while Nick continued to speak. "See the claw marks? Looks fresh, the dips haven't had a chance to fill up with dirt and dust yet,"

"I see blood," said Renard, flopping away the lower part of his loose trenchcoat and resting it on his knees, avoiding any specks of dirt or blood from the forest floor and assuming the same position of squatting as Sasuke had back at the blood spatter.

The black-haired teen was beside the Captain in an instant. "That's quite a lot of blood, actually," he said, voice quiet.

"Just finished my call from Hank and we have a possible shooting as well," said Nick. Sharing information was the least he could do, judging by the worry etched on the teen's face. Sasuke was way too young to be carrying such a burden, murderer or not.

"So the blood could stem from our Wesen?" Asked Renard.

"Quite possibly. It would be enough to spook off any attacker if they took a hit," Nick saw Sasuke's expression of mixed worry and anger morph into something akin to determination.

"If Naruto was shot then he would be backtracking along the route he came," said Sasuke. The teen was already scanning the undergrowth for turned debris and cracked twigs.

"Naruto?" Asked Renard, rolling the name on his tongue. It came out with a slight hint of a french accent but Sasuke didn't seem to realize he had finally divulged the name of his Royal.

"What are you even looking for? I can't see anything beside the spray of blood and the claw marks," said Nick. He had done his fair share of tracking in the past but nothing suggested the movement of an agitated Wesen with a wound and a possible bullet still lodged inside. They had yet to find any stray projectiles which didn't leave behind many options.

"My eyes see more than masks …" said Sasuke, trudging steadily away from the scene of crime and uniformed officers. Renard didn't stop him, but chose to call out to him before the teen got too far away from the rest of them.

"Hold on for just a second young man," said Renard, pulling off his white gloves and storing them in a pocket of his beige trenchcoat. Nick hadn't even realized when the Captain had put them on. "I do believe we said our investigation, our rules. Or do you have a problem with that?"

Nick could hear it in his Captain's voice. A silent challenge brought forth at the prospect of a clash between two Royals. Renard needed to know who he could trust, and who he could cast aside.

"Fine. But get a move on," sneered the teen, turning away from the two cops and disappearing through the dense foliage of pine.

"Come on," said Renard with a huff and grudgingly followed the teen, creating a gap between themselves and the possible backup within a minutes reach.

Nick grabbed his phone and whipped it out, the display providing more light than the sun through the leafy crowns overhead. The curse of straying from the marked route, Nick mused.

He found Hank's number faster than he caught up with the two others, his thumb tapping the invisible letters and pushing the send button before putting away his cell.

_Straying from the trail and getting further into the forest (look for the pine with five claw marks) - found possible evidence of gunshot and wounded Wesen. - N_

"Aren't you going to call this in?" Asked Sasuke.

"No," said Renard with a fierce glare. Something about the boy irked the Zauberbeist inside him every time those red eyes were drawn out into the light. "If this is something we can deal with off records, then that's what we do."

Sasuke was keeping his head low as he nodded in response to Renard's statement. He was obviously following some trail visible only to him, or else he would never stride forward with such barely masked confidence.

"And don't think you'll be walking us into a trap either, we have a few people notified about our current positions," said Renard. Sasuke snorted, a thin smile worming it's way onto his pale face.

"You think I couldn't hear him," a gesture towards Nick, "tap away on his stupid phone? He was so loud I could barely hear myself thinking," he continued. Nick gulped.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I bet you thought you were subtle, didn't you?"

The temperature dropped at least ten degrees and Renard was practically shooting daggers at the arrogant teen while Nick felt embarrassed. He _had_ thought he had been subtle when texting Hank but Sasuke had heard it. Almost as if he heard the same things as Nick himself.

Speaking of the devil, Nick's pocket buzzed alive with an electronic sensation. An answer from Hank.

_I'll be there. Stay alive. - H._

Nick smiled, nothing more than a small tug of the lips, but it was nice knowing he had a partner who didn't mind coming into a forest possibly containing a murderous human-turned-beast.

"Hank's got our backs," said Nick, allowing a tiny nod towards Renard's general vicinity. The Grimm knew it would be helpful backing up his Captain's statement of Sasuke not being able to pull off a trap because they had people watching. What irked Nick, however, was the _I don't give a damn_ face that Sasuke's face had permanently adopted for the last three minutes of their conversation.

"Whatever," he grunted, his eyes back on the invisible trail once more and his posture suggesting that he had tuned out anything regarding Nick and Renard.

"I see …" Renard cut himself off and stopped short underneath the cool shade of a pine tree larger than the rest. Sasuke stopped as well, his eyes turning back to their stormy gray. "Pawprints?" Finished Renard, the tone at the end of the sentence suggested it was actually more of a question than an actual statement.

The prints in the loose earth were too large to belong to any stray dog or wolf or whatever these woods actually hid behind their leafy exterior. A few drops of blood had fallen down on the ground somewhere to the left of the first print but the indents were light, as if there had barely been pressed any weight to leave such an impression on the forest floor. The pawprint in itself wasn't actually that of any animal Nick had seen before; lithe, large and definitely clawed but along the trail of prints, it changed slightly. The heel of a foot became visible. It was almost human like, but the toes were sharp and clawed like that of the pawprints further down the invisible road they had come from.

"That would be him," said Sasuke, his speed picking up as he followed the clear indicators in an unknown direction. "Is there anywhere out here you can hide?" He called back, the briefest hint of hesitation.

Renard shook his head. To him, the forest had looked the same the moment they had stepped away from the original hiking trail.

"Actually," said Nick. "I think I might know where he would go,"

Sasuke merely glanced at the Grimm. "And how would you know?"

Renard was looking a little bit sceptic as well and Nick sighed. It's not like _he_ would be walking them into a trap. "Some time ago, Hank and I discovered an abandoned warehouse used for a fight club with a taste for bloody sports,"

"Ah, yes …" said Renard. He remembered the case all too well, having to get involved himself and still not saving Nick from being beaten to a - partially - bloody pulp. "The Löwen games, am I correct?"

Nick recoiled, not physically, but mentally. Had Renard already known back then?

"Don't look so shocked, Nick," said the Captain. "I knew about the games but Dimitri was getting out of hand. I'm grateful you tore him down from his pedestal or I would have had to get even more involved than I could risk."

"You already knew?" Asked Nick. They had stopped moving by now and Sasuke was near boiling point by listening to their chitchat.

"Of course I knew. You're my Grimm and therefore my responsibility to a certain degree. Even more so when you are also one of my detectives," said Renard.

To Sasuke, that statement might have been boring, but to Nick, it was a declaration of trust. Him and Renard had had plenty of clashes ever since Nick found out about the whole Zauberbeist and kissing Juliette thing. He didn't trust his Captain as far as he could throw him (and that meant Renard had deserved just a hint of trust. He could throw pretty far after all.) but that trust was limited. Nick guessed it was side effect of finding out Renard had tried to kill his Aunt Marie.

"If you two girls are finished gossiping, can we get a move on?" Asked Sasuke. His voice was scathing, slightly trembling and eager to get going, fingers tugging at the edge of his hoodie.

Renard looked over to Nick. "Lead the way," he said and fell into step behind the Grimm. The teenager was at Nick's side faster than the naked eye could see, impatience evident in his every bouncing step.

"Thanks," mumbled Nick. Mostly to Renard and Sasuke refrained from commenting any further on the slightly emotional conversation he had just had the unpleasant experience of bearing witness to.

It was at times like these Nick was glad for his photographic memory or he would have had trouble stumbling his way through a forest. It wasn't as though he had entered the warehouse from the road the last time he had been to the fighting ring but he could recognize a few things here and there.

The exterior of the building came into view first after they broke the endless ranks of pine trees. The grey building raked far above the tree tops and came into view long before they could veer off the invisible road and get to the door that hung by its hinges. The metallic door was rusty and Nick knew it would moan and creak if they attempted to push it open.

"I see more blood," supplied Renard, pointing towards a smear on the door. It was in the vague, abstract form of a handprint dragged across a surface that had once appeared lack-luster and sleek but was now grimy and covered in dust.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't here the last time," said Nick. "How do you want to go about this Captain?"

Sasuke was almost like a soldier standing attention now, arms straight and resting by his side. "Aren't I the most qualified to go in?" He asked, face set in a scowl but his eyes kept straying to the door.

"No," said Renard. "If Naruto is in there, I want all three of us to go. Nick, you take the west side and see if you can find another entrance, I'll go in through the east. Sasuke, you'll take the front door."

While Nick expected the teen to complain, Sasuke took the orders in stride.

"I'm the meat shield, then," he said but agreed to Renard's plan nonetheless.

"You're expendable," answered Renard. Nick winced. It could have been said with more tact - something he usually associated with Renard - but Sasuke said nothing in his own defence. Either he knew they didn't trust him, or he had his own reasons not to argue with the Captain.

The three of them didn't exchange any more words and with only a wave from a Renard, they separated.

Nick circled the west wing of the warehouse, remembering where he had last seen a window when he had not been close to have the lights punched out of him. And right where he remembered it to be, there was a shattered tall window with a thick layer of graffiti on the smoked glass. The spraypaint was red and could easily have been mistaken for blood if not for the amount of similar paint on the nearby walls and glass. It was weird symbols that hadn't been referenced in any Grimm records and the forensics had cooked it down to nothing more than random smears or teenage scribbles.

The glass had pretty much fallen out of the window and was scattered in the brittle grass, leaving an entrance wide enough for Nick to squeeze himself through without getting torn apart by leftover shards. A few wooden crates, tumbled down on their side, provided him with just enough leverage to haul himself through the opening. Even though the boxes were slowly deteriorating, they were stable enough to help Nick with his feeble quest of breaking into an already abandoned warehouse.

The Grimm had taken off his jacket and laid it on the windowsill, making sure he wouldn't get scraped after he got a hold of the ramshackle window and pulled himself up. Nick grunted with the effort, but still his body refused to give him the satisfaction of persperating. He wasn't downright quiet during his little climb but he kept the noise to a minimum, not wanting to alert the potential Wesen unless it already knew they were there.

Nick scrambled with his legs, barely able to fit the upper half of his body through the window, but with an extra powerful heave, he pulled through. Another stack of neatly piled wooden crates worked perfectly well to soften the landing, but the sharp edges were still capable of hurting Nick when he jumped down. The Grimm was just glad the window hadn't been too far up, despite its miniature, square size. The room in which he had emerged was more of a circular shape. A storage room of some sort, judging by the rows of shelves packed with a variety of smaller boxes in all shapes and sizes.

Nick couldn't hear anything but his own steady breathing, a calming gesture in hostile territory. He guessed Renard had found a way in as well, hopefully more successful with his stealth level than Nick had been.

The Grimm had still to hear the door open, signalling Sasuke entering the tumbledown building, but so far, the door hadn't managed as much as a squeak. The teenager was waiting for something. Nick just didn't know what.

Somewhere deeper within the warehouse, chains clattered. A sharp, metallic noise that pierced the Grimm's ears and caused him to wince. It wasn't as though someone continuously hit them just for the sake of it, but rather a soft brush of skin against cold metal and then the repercussions of that action. Nick knew it couldn't have been Renard. The sound hadn't come from the west side, and Nick knew for a fact that the Captain wasn't the type to barge in, guns blazing and ready to kill a few monsters.

Which only left Naruto.

A rather pitiful squeak came from the front door further down the labyrinth.

Nick knew Sasuke had heard the chains as well, a clear sign that his Royal had indeed sought refuge in the abandoned warehouse. Nick chose to stay in the relative safety of the storage room but moved to stand next to the ajar door leading out to the main room with the fighting ring.

Nick shuddered. Through the thin gap, he could see the black specks of blood adorning the floor from the countless of Löwen fights. There was a silhouette to his far right, nearly at the point where Nick couldn't see anything past the area where there once stood an arena - now gone as a part of evidence. The grey floor was lit up by stray sunlight or lack thereof. The garbled roof was so full of holes Nick didn't know where the light was coming from.

It was the silhouette of someone of a slightly smaller stature than Sasuke, but Nick was still taller by at least half a head. The guy was quick on his feet, agile as a cat as he kept to the shadows, brushing against the chains every now and again.

Nick heard more than saw Sasuke enter the room and the silhouette stilled almost immediately. The Grimm couldn't see the dark-haired teen but he could hear a breath of relief flow through the room and carry down to where he was standing.

A frightened, choked voice croaked out some broken version of the Uchiha's first name. "Sasuke?" Asked the silhouette, a thick accent of underlying Japanese coated the words and Nick squinted in his efforts to listen in on the conversation.

"It's me," said Sasuke, taking a step closer to the scared boy, his voice barely above a whisper but Nick still heard it. The chains blared in protest as Naruto took a step back in tact with Sasuke.

"Don't," said Naruto. The guy was on the verge of sobbing.

"Naruto," said Sasuke. "Please." Another step forward and another step backwards. It was a game of tag in a sick and twisted way. Not even ten feet from Nick's hideout, the killer of five people - and what could have been one more victim - was close to crying.

"I'll hurt you," said Naruto, this time stepping into the vague light and Nick could finally see his features.

Naruto looked more like a boy than a young man, with frizzly blonde hair that defied gravity at the top but still fell down and framed his face. Three whisker like scars corresponded with Hank's description and what startled Nick the most was the eyes.

A clear blue which Nick would only pen on the most pure bred Balinese cats. (Yet another side effect of listening to Juliette talking about her day at the clinic.) But either the lighting in the warehouse or simply the things that the boy had been through had given his eyes a haunted look. His face was tan but gaunt and blood had clotted his otherwise sunshine hair. One hand was clutching his abdomen, fingers drenched in fresh blood as he put pressure on what Nick assumed was a bullet wound.

If Nick had to guess, it had been days since the teen had eaten or slept properly.

"We'll figure something, I promise. I haven't spent all this time without doing some research as well, you usurantonkachi ..." Sasuke gave a dry chuckle but it was humourless. It was obvious the black-haired teen was concerned and it showed in small signs. There was no doubt that Naruto could see the hints as well.

"Liar," he said. Nick could only guess the expression of hurt on Sasuke's face. Just by listening to their conversation, the Grimm could hear the level of affection traded between the two of them. Naruto was scared that Sasuke would get hurt and Sasuke was scared that Naruto would hurt himself even more.

"It wasn't your fault," ventured Sasuke. Even he could see the distress Naruto was in, his blue eyes darting back and forth between possible escape routes. The small storage room included.

"I can't control it," said Naruto, a hint of a whine in his voice.

"Then we'll find a way." Desperation.

"I hurt people..."

"And I haven't?" Asked Sasuke. His eyes were clear evidence of his past. He had hurt a lot of people to get to where he was today. Naruto included.

"They'll want revenge for what I did," said Naruto. "For what I did to them and their families."

"Revenge isn't everything,"

"For you it was." A low blow, but a blow all the same.

Nick could cut the air with a butter knife, the tension thick and palpable but it was nothing compared to the spike of anger Nick felt when Renard decided to let himself be known, slithering in from Sasuke's right and coming to stand slightly behind him.

"There is a difference between revenge and justice," countered Renard.

Naruto physically recoiled, hitting the chains and entering the shroud of shadows once more. From somewhere back in his throat, there came a whine - of either confusion or sadness, Nick couldn't quite distinguish.

"What's going on?" Cried Naruto.

"I told you to let me handle this!" Said Sasuke, turning his attention towards Renard and glaring at the police Captain.

"My town, my rules," was all he said before the Captain turned to address Naruto, one part of his trenchcoat flapped aside, revealing his gun and his hand resting on the butt of his 9mm.

"Sasuke, who is he?" Naruto's voice was downright frantic now, one eye turning from blue to a glowing red in the darkness.

"Naruto, calm down, he's here to help," Sasuke reasoned, but even to himself, his voice sounded weak and unbelieving. Naruto stilled at that, the clanging of the chains seizing in the wake of terrified confusion and seething rage. Both emotions something the blonde was capable of feeling at the moment.

"That's quite a wound you got there," said Renard. He hadn't moved his hand from the gun but contrary to popular belief, he wasn't willing to hurt another potential ally unless he or she attacked first. Not to mention an unarmed teenager would be hard to explain in a report.

"I can't get it out," said Naruto, the statement coming out more as a whine than anything else.

"The bullet?" Asked Renard for clarification. The one glowing eye went up and down and the Captain presumed Naruto had nodded in agreement. "If you come with us, we can help you,"

The one red eye was slit in the darkness and Renard could no longer see the expression on the young man's face, his backtracking allowing him to meld in with the rattling chains. The Captain assumed it gave Naruto a feeling of security, to be held by something cold that would keep his head clear and his body slightly tangled up if he turned ferocious again. Anyone with their head in the game would wipe away the chains and run for an exit when the opportunity arose, but this way, the blonde was both trapped and free to leave. It all depended on his own mindset. And Renard had no doubts Naruto knew that as well.

"You say us an in more than one," said Naruto.

"Yes," Renard pointed first at Sasuke then himself. "We'll both help you,"

"Liar," snarled Naruto. Renard stumbled back. Now there were two glowing, red dots in the dark instead of only one.

"I smell three," he said and the chains clattered again - in anger, guessed Renard. "Besides, I don't count Sasuke in with the two of you, you don't smell right."

Nick had to ponder at that. He could listen in on the conversation but the gestures and mimic on the people's faces were lost to him beyond the creak of the door, but there was no mistaking the curiosity and venom in Naruto's voice. It was true that to some extent, a Zauberbeist and a Grimm would undoubtedly smell different, but to go as far as to call Sasuke an ally despite his attempt at bringing potential enemies or allies? Nick didn't want to know what Naruto had gone through to only trust one person enough to help him.

"I can't force you to come with us," said Renard. Nick decided not to reveal himself at that point. It had sounded as if Naruto knew he was there but didn't know exactly where. Perks of being in a warehouse full of the stench of old sweat and crusted blood mixed with the flow of fresh red liquid. Not to mention the smell of gunpowder on the boy himself. Nick was pretty sure that would numb anyone's sense of smell. Even a Blutbad's. If the boy had truly known where Nick was hiding, he would have chosen another escape route by now.

A brief tap on metal told Nick that Renard had yet to loosen the grip on his gun.

Okay, so maybe Naruto wasn't bolting because he was facing a man with a pistol at the ready and didn't fancy another hole in his meatsuit. Nick had an urge to scoff but refrained from doing so. A beast was still a beast when faced with a hunter, and that meant self preservation was top priority. One wrong move and the bullet could be lodged in your heart. Renard cut off the Grimm's train of thought before he could even think about stopping it himself.

"I think we can all agree that trying to bring you along with force," Sasuke flinched at that. "Won't do any of us any good. You need medical attention and we can give you that, but you have to trust us," said Renard. Nick had to hand it to his Captain right then and there - he sure wasn't going down without trying his best.

"Naruto, listen to him, I know where we can get help, you just need to _come along_," said Sasuke. The brooding teenager had been unusually stoic during the whole exchange between Renard and Naruto, but something in the way he worded his sentence made the alarm bells in Nick's head go off at an alarmingly fast pace. Nick had trouble distinguishing between the bells in his head and the mountain of clatter that emitted from the jungle of chains barely a second after Sasuke had muttered his sentence. Naruto had sprung forward with a snarl.

Not only were his eyes no longer blue, but in the light, Nick could see the blonde had truly woged. Naruto's form coexisted with the prints from outside and Nick couldn't quite figure out how to describe the beast in front of him. It was something akin a mix between a Blutbad and a Fuchsbau; the red eyes as savage as a bloodthirsty Blutbad and the head elongated like a fox. Even complete with a wet nose and sharp canines, something Nick hadn't noticed on either Monroe or Rosalee the last few times he had seen them stress woge. It looked most of all like a bipedal mutt. Golden fur covered the parts of Naruto's body that wasn't covered in ragged clothing and the hands had gained claw-like features. The whisker's on his human face had sprung out and become real whiskers, unlike anything Nick had ever seen before.

This was a whole other level of Wesen than the ones he usually dealt with. And going by the surprised noise by Renard, the Captain was out of his league as well despite his larger knowledge on the subject of Wesen.

The boy-turned-beast flung himself forward at both Renard - who dropped his hand on the gun in favour to run - and Sasuke, who scrambled to the left. Even the Uchiha was unsure whether or not the blonde would attack his proclaimed friend. Nick chose that moment to barge through the door and erupt into the room in a flurry of flailing limbs. For now, the Grimm refrained from drawing his gun and propelled himself at, what Nick assumed, was a fox.

Naruto had lunged himself at the floor, obviously aiming for Renard rather than Sasuke and was now skidding on the concrete for a proper hold. Despite his half-human state of woge, he acted as though he had four paws and Nick was quick to take advantage of that fact.

The Grimm ran head on and aimed a punch in the ribs of the teenager who grunted in both pain and surprise at the sudden attack. Nick definitely had his attention now.

The beast turned on him, saliva dripping from the muzzle-like mouth and jaws snapped haphazardly close to his esophagus. Naruto threw his weight down on the Grimm, pushing the taller man to the floor and gaining the upperhand as the twisted teeth grazed the flesh of Nick's throat.

If the Grimm had had the ability to sweat, the floor would have been drenched. Since Nick had returned from the 'dead', both his speed and strength had increased and he had had few problems with taking down Wesen in a hand to hand combat - but this Wesen was something else.

Nick was struggling just to keep the beast off of his chest and, in front of his eyes, the boy shifted from bipedal to a fully fledged, four-legged fox, the size slightly larger than your average grey wolf. The torn clothes the fox had been wearing was shed and the wild frenzy in Naruto's eyes became overpowering. The red colour had drained the black of his pupil and even his retina had become like liquid blood. It was disgusting, and even more so when a patch of slobber hit Nick's cheek.

The claws scraped Nick's chest and he could _feel_ the t-shirt he had been wearing be reduced to shreds. His arms were preoccupied with keeping the snapping beast away from his general vicinity of vulnerable spots, meaning both his belly and jugular vein.

A sliding sound to his right alerted Nick that he couldn't rely on backup from Renard, twisting his head in time to see the Captain engaged in a furious hand to hand combat with Sasuke. So the black-haired teen had decided to go against them after all.

Somewhere in his stomach, rage built like molten lava and the Grimm pushed the fox to the side, planting a kick right in the area already soaked in blood. The bullet wound.

The fox gave a pitiful cry and fell back, a brief interlude in their fight, before Nick became aware of the extra appendages where the fox's tail was supposed to be. Instead of one, nine golden tails swung back and forth in obvious agitation and the fox kept it's belly low to the ground, fur skimming as it resorted to circling around the Grimm. The nervous blonde was nowhere inside this beast and Nick knew it. The eyes were different and the woge had changed when it had come close enough to go in for the kill if Nick had been just any regular joe.

Naruto darted forward, teeth nipping at Nick's heels and causing him to jump back.

Pulling his gun was out of the question, but the further the Grimm was herded into a corner, the more he felt fear well up in him. The concrete walls were clammy to touch and the red paint from the windows had been repeated on the walls, albeit in different smears than before. The Grimm was in a position with no possible escapes and it didn't sit well with him. It could have been connected to the violent growling currently resounding in the abandoned warehouse, or it could have been his Grimm instincts screaming for self preservation, Nick wouldn't know, but the amount of detail he took in was incredible.

A thunderclap tore through the air and the fox cried out in pain, it's shoulder bleeding. A thin line had parted the pelt and the golden colour had turned into a singed brown. The fox tilted to one side, a yowl stuck in its throat as it hit the floor with a dull sound and Nick knew it had been a bullet causing that wound. It wasn't from his own, Nick concluded. He hadn't pulled the gun as a desperate last measure.

"I'm not even sure I want to know what the hell is going on,"

It was Hank, gun drawn and badge shining. Nick released a breath in relief. He had sent the text to Hank ages ago, not clueing him in any further than the pine tree but the mustached man had had the energy to think for himself.

The Captain and Sasuke broke apart, Renard collapsing on the floor with a groan. Nick had seen a small blue flash from the corner of his eye, consisting with the loud noise of chirping birds or thunder just at the same time Hank had released his gun. Renard's face was scrunched up in pain, but there was no visible blood beside the older stains on the floor.

"Naruto!" Yelled Sasuke, racing from the fallen Renard to the whimpering fox. His hands searched out the new wound and with a glare directed at Nick rather than Hank, the boy hissed. "This isn't the end of this …"

The Grimm didn't have a chance to ask what the black-haired teen meant before they were being swallowed by a storm of leaves. Nick was sure there weren't any leaves when they had entered the building and the small door at the obvious entrance - despite having been open during the entirety of the time - couldn't possibly have brought such a massive amount of browning foliage.

When the violent gust of wind finally let up, the two teens were nowhere in sight.

"What the hell?" Asked Hank, too preoccupied with staring at the spot where only a puddle of fresh blood remained than take in his surroundings. If Nick had to guess, Hank had been lucky enough to stumble upon the warehouse and had most likely forgotten about the Löwen case. Not that he knew the case had been Löwen.

Renard had lifted himself to a sitting position, clutching his shoulder and gritting his teeth in pain, but awake and functioning nonetheless. Nick couldn't help but notice the small circular cut writhing its way through the Captain's trenchcoat. Sasuke had undoubtedly pierced the Captain right on his shoulder bone with something paralyzing.

Nick wasn't exactly sure what he had seen either but he leaned his head back against the wall, sliding down and not stopping until his butt hit cold concrete. His stomach was cut, and while the gashes were long, they were anything but deep - Naruto had been too preoccupied trying to lop off his head.

"Where do you think they went?" Asked Renard, seemingly having regained the ability to speak, his tongue brushing over his teeth as he tested syllables in hushed whispers.

"Sasuke said somewhere they were safe, but it can't be that far away," said Nick. It didn't sound like his own voice. Shaky and out of breath, but the Grimm knew it was. Even with his massive amount of strength and skill, he hadn't been able to keep up with Naruto and without Hank, Nick would have been in even more trouble.

Nick was aware of Hank calling for backup but all he could think about was that this was one case he didn't know how to write. Sure, he had written reports about Siegbarstes and Balam but how was he going to explain how they let out a possible suspect who turned on them to assist a fox with nine tails? Yeah, that was so not happening.

Nick winced and cradled his stomach. He would have to go to the hospital for a checkup that couldn't be avoided no matter how much he could insist that he was fine, but where did Wesen go? As far as he knew, Wesen didn't have a hospital where they could just drop in.

But there was always one place Wesen could go to when they needed help.

"The spice shop," said Nick. "They'll be at the spice shop …"


	6. That Royal Was Not Born Royal

**To those worried I nerfed our Shinobi last chapter, don't worry, there's a good excuse that will be explained later on in the story. It was meant to be a hint ;)**

**And I think I've found a way to make sure I can upload on a Friday even when I'm not near my own computer, so that problem should be fixed for now. Enjoy this uber long chapter and be warned of Sasunaru fluff.**

* * *

><p>'That Royal Was Not Born Royal' He Declared<p>

Chapter V

"Hang on you usurantonkachi, we're almost there," said Sasuke. The black-haired teen was beyond the point of exhaustion, the amount of chakra he had had to use to get both of them out just after using chidori was dangerous and they both knew it. Sasuke was holding a human Naruto up, carrying most of the blonde's weight on his shoulder and the gesture was tiring in every aspect of the word.

Naruto grunted in response, his eyes fluttering shut every so often and Sasuke knew the familiar panic building in his stomach all too well. The grazing Naruto's shoulder had suffered in the warehouse was already healing, the skin knitting softly together but the older wound in the blonde's side was still bleeding heavily. Sasuke knew the bullet still inside of Naruto wasn't ordinary, or else the wound would have been gone in at least half an hour but that time had long since passed. It had been at least a few hours, tops, since the jogger had called in the attack, according to the information he had managed to gather while being at the precinct.

Sasuke blamed himself. If he hadn't decided to stay at the police station in order to acquire _possible_ information on Naruto's whereabouts, they might have avoided the situation they had landed themselves in now. Sasuke hoisted Naruto up again, the blonde stumbling every few steps.

"Come on," grunted Sasuke, seeing the sign of the shop not too far away.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the owner had called the cops but it was the best place to get medical help and Sasuke didn't want to take any more chances with Naruto being so out of it. He also knew the woman had kept the concoction of herbs brewing even after he was taken to the station. If anyone in Portland had any medical knowledge of Wesen, Sasuke was willing to bet his family fortune that she was the one to go to.

"I can't-" began Naruto but Sasuke cut him off.

"Don't, just don't." It was final and Naruto didn't argue any further. There was no chance Sasuke was leaving the blonde after everything they had been through. And by merely seeing the pained expression on the blonde's face, Sasuke knew he could never give up on him.

Naruto's hand was still keeping pressure on the wound and despite the street being devoid of any life during midday lunch break, a trail of dripping blood was sure to lead the cops to the spice shop if they had any brain cells. Sasuke knew the risks he was taking and he couldn't give a toad's ass about that right now. Naruto was more important than being inconspicuous and keeping to the shadows, orders be damned.

Sasuke grit his teeth and nearly tore down the door. He was using both hands to keep Naruto standing upright since the idiot had decided to fall semi unconscious a few steps back and that left Sasuke with fewer options than he would have liked. The handle was out of the question and the door had been left slightly ajar, enough to warrant Sasuke a reason to kick it open and storm into the spice shop full of sweet smelling herbs and potions.

The young woman from before was stashing some jar of sour smelling leaves when she looked up in fright and Sasuke could almost _hear_ her heartbeat spike through the roof.

"I don't care if you call the cops, just fix him," he said. The woman was stunted, her mouth half open and gaping with one hand still stuck on the lid of the jar she had been putting away. For a moment, Sasuke doubted she was going to help him and in a desperate attempt at convincing her they were no threat at the moment, he turned off his sharingan. "Please …"

A crash came from the room to Sasuke's left, the one where the woman had disappeared into the first time when he had asked for some of the stronger calming herbs. Sasuke knew it was her store and workplace but the teen hadn't considered the possibility of someone else being in the store. The streets had been so deserted he hadn't bothered to check for other possible customers before coming in with a bleeding Royal still prone to woge at any given moment.

"Rosalee? What's going-" A male exited from the room, shards of glass in one hand and a sorrowful expression on his face, as if he had just ruined her last jar of catnip.

Sasuke was panicking now. The more time they wasted standing around, the larger the chances of Naruto dying on him. The guy with the shards dropped the already shattered pieces of glass and stumbled back, coming to a halt next to the young woman. His eyes flicked over Naruto's wound and Sasuke drew the boy in closer. They were both vulnerable and their chakra resources were as low as they had been when they had fought Madara. If the two people in front of them decided to attack, they would stand no chance. It put Sasuke on edge but he knew this was the only place to get help. Konoha was too far away for a simple transportation jutsu.

"What are you doing here?" Asked the man.

"Monroe!" Exclaimed Rosalee and shot the bearded man, Monroe, a look of disdain.

Sasuke frowned. He was sure he hadn't seen the man before but Monroe obviously knew him or Naruto or he wouldn't have worded his sentence in such a specific way. Conscious or subconscious, it was a hint.

"He's hurt," said Rosalee, fixing a begging stare at Monroe.

Naruto's breathing was shallow but with him unconscious, he wasn't bound to feel the pain of his wound.

"No," said Monroe. "No! Rosalee, they could kill us just because we actually laid eyes on them!"

The Fuchsbau took a step forward and curled an elegant hand into the Blutbad's plaid shirt. "If I was dying, would you kill the only people who could possibly heal me?" She asked. It was an unfair question, but one she had to ask. Monroe gulped and took a step back, his back bumping into a low shelf and jabbing into his thigh.

"Your responsibility!" He conceded and threw his hands up in exasperation.

Sasuke perked up.

"What's his name?" Asked Rosalee, tilting her head in the blonde's direction.

"Naruto," said Sasuke, well aware that the blonde was unable to answer for himself.

"Put him in here," said Rosalee and trudged to the spare room, gesturing to what had once been a comfortable couch but had been taken in to use as a patient's bed. The squishy polster melted into the shape of Naruto's body as soon as the blonde was laid down. Sasuke was glad he had been correct in his judgement when he had first seen Rosalee - she had definitely removed a bullet or two before and judging by her calm face and steely expression, she knew how to handle the situation.

"How long has he been bleeding like that?" She asked, directing her question towards Sasuke.

"Possibly two hours or more. I'm unsure when the shot actually hit." Rosalee's eyes turned wide and fearful, looking every inch the fox that she was.

"For that long?" She exclaimed, a mixture of awe and surprise. Sasuke knew that even while Wesen would sometimes heal faster than ordinary people, Naruto would always be an exception. Even a Wesen should have bled out with such a steady flow of blood.

"Monroe!" Called Rosalee, her instinct finally overriding her sense of fear, and Monroe returned with a guarded look. "I'm going to need periwinkle, yarrow, thuja oil and more catnip." The bearded guy darted out of the room and Sasuke could hear the clatter of what must have been countless jars and bottles.

"What can I do to help?" He asked, jittery and antsy at the prospect of seeing Naruto lie unconscious on the couch. His best friend was down and he didn't have any paramedic training at all. Now that was a point for Naruto to expand on when he became Hokage or else he would have to have a serious talk with Tsunade when the both of them got home. Sasuke shivered. The term 'both of them' was quickly turning into nothing but a useless pile of words, almost as fast as the blood dripping from Naruto's wound and onto the couch.

"Can you fetch me the pliers?" Asked Rosalee, her back turned to him as she shuffled through a cupboard with equipment. "Lowest drawer to your right," she continued and Sasuke found the right storage compartment within seconds. There was a strange assortment of surgical knives and a couple of pliers. Without Rosalee's permission, Sasuke found himself taking the wads of cotton and rolls of bandages on the top of the counter and bringing them over to the desk in the middle of the room.

"Got it," huffed Monroe and entered the room with an armful of supplies. It was an array of colours, bottles and jars but Sasuke crinkled his nose at the smell. It was a horrible stench, even more so than the rest of the shop that either smelled sweet, sour or just downright foul. This was definitely in the foul department, a good mix of several scents that should never have been mixed under normal circumstances.

"Good, now clear the desk, I want a nice, steady surface to operate on," said Rosalee. She had already started preparing some of the herbs and the scent of the thuja oil was sweet in the air filled with blood and sour leaves.

Sasuke grabbed a burner and a mortar still filled with something akin to eucalyptus leaves and crushed liquorice roots, the scent attractive and mouthwatering. The teen was sure that if Naruto had been awake, he would have begged to taste it, medication or not and Sasuke had no idea if it was for a simple cold or for a rather persistent infection.

Sasuke could see the scowl Monroe wore but it didn't bother him. He was used to worse taunts and jeers after he returned to Konoha upon the death of Madara. He had only returned for Naruto, unfortunately getting the rest of rookie nine as well, and a pissed off Blutbad didn't scare the Uchiha. Hell, Sakura was scarier than a scowling guy with a beard and a plaid shirt.

He returned Monroe's glare with equal ferocity and the bearded guy's face shifted underneath his gaze. But the teen could see the silent message in those flashing red eyes. The same message that he, himself, was displaying at the moment. Don't you dare hurt my friend. Sasuke would have laughed at the absurdity - if he actually did laugh on a regular basis - if not for the fact that his friend was already hurt.

Every few seconds in between clearing the table, Sasuke would let his eyes glance over at Naruto's still form. Rosalee was bent down beside the blonde and she was already cleaning the wound for excessive blood, having taken the cotton and bandages Sasuke had laid out for her.

Monroe calmed down after that, seeing that Sasuke held no particular interest in hurting Rosalee and the evident worry etched permanently on the teen's young face conveyed the message clearer than needed. The Uchiha wasn't there to fight, he was there to get help for someone he cared strongly about, and Monroe couldn't help but agree with that sentiment.

"He's going to be okay," offered Monroe, placing a hand on Sasuke's shoulder. Said teen gave a grateful nod at the Blutbad and Monroe walked over to Rosalee while the teen cleared the rest of the desk. The wooden counter underneath the layers of equipment was light in colour and smelled decently sanitary. Sasuke concluded that it would do for now.

"Okay! Monroe, Sasuke, I need you to lift him _gently_," stressed Rosalee. "Onto the table and I'll be ready with a couple of towels. Jostling him too much might rip what little knitting his skin will have done on the wound and I'm not keen for him to start bleeding again,"

It took both of the boys to lift Naruto from the couch, Monroe hooking his arms under the blonde's armpits and heaving the boy up with a large huff while Sasuke grabbed his legs. Naruto moaned and the black-haired teen recognized it to be a noise of pain. Sasuke had quickly learned Naruto had a lot of sounds he often used to convey his feelings when his face just couldn't express it. Sometimes because he was forced to act against his own nature because of the villagers and other times because the blonde simply didn't know how to deal with it.

Sasuke had dealt with emotional problems first hand but had chosen to shut himself out while Naruto had let everything pour out in a constant stream of hyperactivity and giddiness. It had taken some time to get used to, but Sasuke had peered through his facades when they had fought Haku on the bridge. They had both let their defences drop, and for a short time that had made both of them stronger.

Sasuke winced when Naruto gave another groan at the slight manhandling as they finally got him onto the table. The blonde was still unconscious but his body responded to the pain. Sasuke guessed it was because Naruto was the Kyuubi now. The body would refuse to give in unless there was absolutely no chance left of a recovery.

It was painful knowledge to have, and Sasuke blamed that on the slight hesitation he felt at watching Rosalee grind the periwinkle and spread the pulp onto Naruto's wound. At some point, the Fuchsbau had taken the opportunity to remove the blonde's frayed t-shirt and Naruto lay half naked on the table, his skin glistening with sweat.

Monroe had stepped back, allowing Rosalee to do her job properly and he was content enough seeing her buzz around, briefly looking up at the Blutbad from time to time when she needed something she didn't have within her reach.

Naruto whimpered and Sasuke took a few steps toward the desk. When Rosalee didn't comment on his actions, the teen brought his own hand up to meet Naruto's. The blonde had curled his hands into fists at his side and the moment Sasuke touched the skin on Naruto's hand, he calmed down. The whimpering died in his throat and Sasuke stood opposite of Rosalee who looked up in mild surprise.

"Monroe, I need you to burn that catnip I gave you," she said, turning her attention back towards the bullet wound that had stopped bleeding for now, the periwinkle doing its job while the Fuchsbau prepared the yarrow concoction. She still had to remove the bullet.

The Uchiha could see the pliers just lying on the table and he squeezed Naruto's hand, slipping his fingers into the all familiar warmth. While Naruto was unconscious and didn't know he would soon have to endure the lovely prospect of having a bullet removed from his body, Sasuke was feeling nervous on the idiot's behalf.

The light tingle of catnip in the air eased his worries and Naruto's other hand - still curled in a fist - released its deadly grip on itself. The blonde's face had taken on the same expression as when he would slumber on the couch after a week of boring recon and Sasuke wondered if they could ever go back to those days.

"Okay, pass me the pliers," said Rosalee. She had pulled on a pair of white rubber gloves and the acrid stench made Sasuke turn away for a brief moment. He would choose the assortment of foul herbs anyday. The rubber reminded him of the various trips to the infirmary after a tough mission.

When Rosalle touched the plier to Naruto's skin, he let out a little cry at the feeling of the cold metal against his flesh and Sasuke felt the blonde's hand clench around his own in despair. Despite being unconscious, Naruto knew - to a certain extent - what was going on. And he didn't like it, judging by the growl emitting from his throat the moment Rosalee plunged the pair of pliers into his wound.

If Naruto was awake, he would have screamed. Sasuke felt ill just watching Rosalee work on the wound. The bleeding had begun again, albeit at a lesser pace, but the Fuchsbau merely commanded the Blutbad to put pressure on the wound. Naruto squirmed, uncomfortably on the desk with his side torn open and smeared with pulps and concoctions that would undoubtedly sting the moment they dripped into the wound.

Monroe was busy trying to stop the bleeding while Rosalee was fiddling, the pliers disappearing farther and farther down into Naruto's flesh. Sweat had broken out on her brow and Monroe took the liberty of using one of the clean towels not yet soggy with blood to dab it off. The Fuchsbau gave Monroe a tender smile without looking up from her rushed work.

Naruto gave a louder cry and his blue eyes opened in haste as Rosalee jostled something inside of the blonde. It was obvious Naruto was confused about where he was, his eyes frantically searching for a familiar face which he was rewarded with when Sasuke leaned over him, one hand cupping the blonde's whiskered cheek.

"Naruto, calm down, they are removing the bullet," said Sasuke, eager to calm down the soon to be thrashing blonde if he didn't convey the importance of the unfamiliar people's actions. Monroe gave a yelp of surprise and took a step away from the operation table, his hands full of bloody towels and his face fearful. The man's beard contorted along with his features and his ears turned long and sharp. The man was woging in pure stress just at the sight of an awake Naruto.

"Monroe!" Called Rosalee, knowing the man had backed away from the obvious lack of hands pressing on the corner of the wound. She knew he was scared and so was she, but she didn't want to let that cloud her judgement. Someone needed their help and would most likely die without it. Now was not the time to become fearful and throw someone out because they had killed. Monroe had killed too and so had Nick but they hadn't been thrown out. "Monroe, I need you to focus, he needs our help,"

Sasuke was still looming over Naruto, keeping eye contact with the hyperventilating blonde who was close to bolting no matter the medical equipment stuck in his skin. It was important Monroe didn't choose to bolt as well, not knowing what it might do to Naruto's primal instincts. If the Kyuubi in him saw Monroe as a threat, there was no guarantee Naruto wouldn't put him down because of his injured state. The animal in him might push him into doing something he would regret later.

Monroe returned to his spot beside Rosalee but he didn't woge back and Sasuke didn't blame him. He would have been shit scared of Naruto as well.

"Naruto, don't worry," said Sasuke, hoping to get through to the blonde. For the first time in what felt like ages, Naruto locked eyes with the Uchiha and while Sasuke saw specks of red near the pupil, the majority of blonde's eyes were the bright blue Sasuke had become accustomed with.

It was a soothing feeling, to see the blonde back in control of his own body, the feral instincts suppressed despite the situation being dire.

"Ouch!" Exclaimed Naruto, squirming closer to Sasuke and snapping his head in Rosalee's direction, his human teeth turning slightly longer and sharper as his body reacted to the extra amount of pain. Sasuke was surprised at Naruto's improved control until he saw how unfocused Naruto's pupils had become. When hyperventilating, the blonde would have inhaled a lot more of the catnip incense and it would have calmed him down immensely. All the way down to the point where Naruto didn't feel the need to bite off the Fuchsbau's head for having her tools carving into his flesh.

In response to Naruto's jab, Rosalee didn't do anything besides telling the blonde to shut up and let her do her job. Sasuke could almost have laughed at Naruto's dumbfounded expression; eyebrows soaring through the roof and his mouth hanging slightly open. No one had told him to shut up since the war, even those who had loathed him because of the former Kyuubi, and Naruto hadn't been expecting a Fuchsbau to step up to the task.

Naruto turned back to look at Sasuke, his jaw clamped tight and when Rosalee scraped the pliers over some of the loose skin again, the blonde didn't cry out. Merely twitched his brow and tears welled up in his eyes.

"Hey," said Sasuke, deciding he should try and keep the blonde's focus on him rather than the wound in his side. "I'm proud of you, idiot,"

For a short moment, Naruto's eyes lit up, just like they had before the blonde had become the Kyuubi and inherited the responsibility that had drained so much of his energy. A short rumble came from Naruto's chest and this time, Sasuke couldn't help but let out a soundless chuckle.

The purr was cut short when Rosalee bit her lip and let out a soft groan.

"I have the bullet, but I can't remove it," she said. Sasuke's eyes lost all of their brief warmth and he snapped his head towards her, his voice concerned while the words came out as a sneer.

"What do you mean you can't get the bullet out?" He asked. Sasuke noticed Monroe take a millimeter step closer to the Fuchsbau, the woged Wesen sensing his anger and confusion. "If you don't remove the bullet then how do you close the wound?"

"I can close the wound with the bullet still in there but its too close to some of the major organs to not do any damage in the long run. It's almost like his body is trying to heal itself from the inside and the bullet is lodged too deep to just rip it out," she said, laying down the hard facts. At first, she didn't believe it. The first time she had grabbed a part of the bullet and Naruto had woken up in response but yet the metallic piece had been firmly stuck with no major tissue for it to stick to. But then again, if Naruto's body did close around the bullet it would only be a matter of time before it was pushed into the area of the blonde's heart, possibly causing cardiac arrest.

"If I pull the bullet out with sheer force, there's no telling how much I'll pull with it, not to mention we just stopped the bleeding and tearing at the wound will only reopen it for the worse." Said Rosalee. It was up to the two boys to choose what they would do. She wasn't a professional doctor and only dabbled in the art of herbal restoration - not exactly your most qualified person to remove a bullet.

"Naruto, it's your call," said Sasuke. Their hands were still held tightly together and Sasuke didn't once think of letting go. Naruto needed him and he wasn't about to abandon the boy like he had done for almost four years. They were knee deep in shit but they were in it together.

"If you pull the bullet out," wheezed the blonde, giving Sasuke's hand a light squeeze, letting him know it hurt to talk and he was going to cut it short. Sasuke smiled. He hadn't thought he would live to see the day when Naruto would cut something short because he didn't feel like talking. The world was truly ending. "Sasuke will be able to close the wound with his Katon jutsu …"

"My fire," supplied Sasuke upon seeing the confused faces of both Monroe and Rosalee. It was obvious they had never dealt with Shinobi before.

"Are you sure you want to do that? The pain will be excruciating," said Rosalee. She wasn't a big fan of closing wounds with fire but she had no say in it if Naruto was willing to go through the pain. Naruto nodded and let go of Sasuke's hand. It was his decision and he had had it worse. A little fire wouldn't be enough to bring him down.

"Monroe, we are going to need an ointment of olive oil, comfrey, marshmallow root, wormwood, witch hazel bark and honey. Then mix that with the thuja oil," said Rosalee. The bleeding had all but stopped even though the pliers were still embedded in Naruto, having deemed it a big enough risk to remove them until Naruto made a decision.

Monroe turned stiff, gaping at the Fuchsbau as if she had turned mad.

"You can't be serious?" He exclaimed but at Rosalee's solemn expression, he walked over to the cabinets without further discussion.

"Recipe is in the blue book, by the burners," she said and Monroe set about to work. "I need you to come and stand beside me, where Monroe stood," the Fuchsbau directed at the Uchiha. The teen stepped around the desk, keeping eye contact with Naruto all the while - just in case. The blonde was close to hyperventilating again and Sasuke saw no reason for that to happen.

"How does your fire work?" Asked Rosalee. "Can you cover the whole area of the wound?"

Sasuke winced, for the first time able to see the wound to its full extent and it didn't look good. The crust of dried blood didn't show any signs of infection yet, but Sasuke knew how fast that could change. One of the main reasons he hadn't been up for pulling the bullet out himself in some dingy back alley with Naruto hellbent on ripping out his throat.

"Don't worry about it," said Sasuke. "I can do the fire when you need it," he didn't elaborate and Rosalee didn't ask for a further explanation but took a firm hold of the pliers.

"This is going to hurt," she said and without further warning, she pulled.

The scream coming from Naruto was bad enough for Sasuke to want to cover his ears, but the Uchiha refrained from doing so. He needed to be ready and Rosalee was fighting hard enough with the bullet than without having to worry about her human torch being out of commision.

Tears welled up in the blonde's eyes and his left turned a shade more bloody than his right. Sasuke knew it was only a matter of time before the Kyuubi instincts would grab a hold of him and force him to get rid of the thing that was causing him pain. Which - essentially - meant getting rid of Sasuke and Rosalee.

"Stay with me," said Sasuke. An urge to grab the blonde's hand was immediately squashed down and forgotten in all of the next two seconds.

Sasuke had to restrain Naruto from not jumping down from the table all the while Rosalee had a look of triumph upon her face, one of her hands gently nudging the pliers out. Sasuke didn't need to ask if she had got a hold of the bullet and had taken that exact moment to pull it out; Naruto's contorted features told him enough.

With one last heave and a slick sound - almost like a plug being pulled and water running out of a bathtub - the bullet came out at the other end of the pliers, a victorious grin on Rosalee's face for just a split second before she turned to Sasuke.

"Do it now," she said. "Close the wound before it reopens too much."

Sasuke could feel the pressure building, not only his own nervousness, but also the pressure in Naruto's side. The blood was pooling, waiting, to burst free of the dam, using the same route as the bullet that had now made a clear path from the blonde's insides to the outside.

It started out like the feeling of a rash. Just in the back of his throat, where he couldn't scratch and could never reach despite the best of efforts. Then a stinging sensation, briefly followed by that of heat and something curling in on itself only to die and become something else entirely.

The Uchiha bend down, his arms having to use less strength to subdue a no longer thrashing Naruto and the black-haired teen came nose to nose with the wound. Sasuke released the small fireball, full well knowing that it would slow down Naruto's general healing abilities but would close up the more pressing matters.

The smell of burning skin was something Sasuke would never get used to. Not even now, when it was the skin of his best friend burning in front of his face; an orange glow and raw stench accompanying him.

"Monroe, ointment," said Rosalee, shedding the white gloves and putting away the pliers still grabbing the metallic bullet covered in fresh blood. The Fuchsbau was watching with awe as the controlled fireball only burned the area of the wound.

Naruto groaned at the burning sensation but huffed at the Uchiha, his eyes alight with mirth. Sasuke knew what was causing Naruto to give a soundless snort and felt saddened all the same. _Try me, Uchiha_.

And Sasuke had done that. With a mixture of fire and lightning and hurtful comments that hadn't driven the blonde idiot away despite trying his best. He hadn't needed a friend - and had done everything in his power to prevent that from happening - but Naruto had plain out refused to back down.

It was one of the only reasons the black-haired teen was by Naruto's side at that moment.

The Blutbad had woged back, the catnip incense coming in handy with more people than originally intended, and passed the sweet smelling ointment into the hands of a professional. The cream smelled sickly sweet, the honey and thuja oil only adding to the smells of the already overly smelly room. Rosalee took out a generous amount of the balm and lifted it up to her nose, taking a whiff of the scent.

"Did you add something extra?" She asked Monroe.

"Yeah," he said. "I thought I'd add some clove and nutmeg for antibacterial and antihelminthic effect." Rosalee could have kissed the Blutbad. He was finally making his own decisions when it came to adding additional effects for a better result and she couldn't judge his choice of herbs. By only adding what most others would consider as culinary spices, Monroe had lessened the chance of the patient having an allergic reaction by only subjecting them to herbs they had most likely encountered before.

"I'm proud of you," said Rosalee, spreading a thin coating of the gel onto Naruto's skin. The boy didn't protest much, but the Fuchsbau did notice how the blonde's hand sought the comfort of the black-haired teen's. To her, it was obvious they were more than friends but she doubted Monroe had noticed the tender looks and had probably thought it was due to the life and death situation playing out in front of them. Rosalee smiled. If Monroe hadn't realized yet, she wasn't the one to tell him.

"Does that mean I'm good to go?" Asked Naruto, wincing as Rosalee dragged her hands over a particular stingy part of his burned flesh.

"Definitely not, young man," she answered and kept on adding to the layer of ointment. Naruto was about to protest when Rosalee gave him a sharp look.

"I don't care how quickly you heal, you were just shot and you have been bleeding non stop for two hours, so no, you're staying here until you are good enough to be on your way." It wasn't a proposition and the blonde had the nerve to actually _pout_ at her. God, she could understand why even the moody teen was dating someone like Naruto. He was cute even when trying to be angry.

"But the idiot will be okay?" Asked Sasuke. Both Monroe and Rosalee raised an eyebrow. Now that the blonde wasn't dying, the Uchiha was going to start calling him names? When said blonde didn't react but merely grinned at Sasuke's choice of words, the two Wesen decided not to mention the weirdness of the 'idiot' part. Must have something to do with the fact that both of them were foreigners.

"Technically, yes, but I want to keep him here for the next few days - just in case," she added. Monroe stood just a tad bit straighter beside her. She knew he wouldn't agree, but seeing the blonde now, without any hint of a violent nature, she didn't have the heart to throw them out. If there was even the slightest chance she could help the blonde, she would do so.

"Isn't that dangerous for you?" Asked Sasuke, not moving from his position beside the blonde who was still on the operation desk, not having received orders that he could move around. While Naruto wasn't one for following orders, especially the ones concerning his own health, the prospect of moving around wasn't all that appealing to a guy with a newly closed wound in his side.

Monroe averted the Uchiha's gaze and Rosalee didn't seem like she was going to answer.

"It's obvious you both know who we are and what we are capable of," he continued. "Not to mention I know you were the one who called the cops on me."

Naruto shifted slightly to get a better look at the discussion happening before him. The kind lady had called the cops on Sasuke? Talk about misguidance.

"Why are you suddenly so willing to provide us with food and shelter, knowingly assisting two refugees when I can see your boyfriend is wholeheartedly against it?"

"Look," began Rosalee before the teen could go on. "I'm not usually one for throwing my patients out on the streets, criminals or not." She defended, the protective nature of her Fuchsbau coming forward. "And even less likely to do that when I have been told that Naruto is most likely the King of Wesen,"

Naruto stilled completely on the desk and only Sasuke heard the blonde's sharp intake of breath. They knew about him being the Kyuubi and yet they had helped him instead of letting him die. Simply _because_ he was the Kyuubi. It didn't make any sense.

"Easy," whispered Sasuke. It would do neither of them any good if Naruto bolted and risked the wound tearing open in a frenzy to get away from people who _might_ hurt him because of the Kyuubi. But Rosalee's statement indicated otherwise. She had helped them despite her knowledge and Sasuke felt a rush of gratitude.

The Uchiha knew about her being a Fuchsbau and Monroe being a Blutbad, his sharingan letting him see past the exterior even though what was on the other side was often more ugly than the usual.

The front door opened up before Sasuke could thank the two herbalists for their help, the tiny bell giving a pitiful imitation of a bell similar to the ones used in hotels. Like a bell for a bellboy. Small, whining and incredibly pure in sound.

"Rosalee?"

The Fuchsbau whirled around, storming out of the back room and hastingly closing the door behind her, leaving Monroe with the two teens.

"It's the cop isn't it?" Asked Sasuke. Naruto's eyes turned wide. They were here?

"I thought you said it was safe?" Protested the blonde.

Monroe looked torn between helping out Rosalee and trying to explain the situation to a certain degree with the two teens. In the end, he chose to stay and rubbed his beard with his hand, a frown on his face.

"I'm sorry, but, this is probably the only place you would come to and I'll have you know that Nick is pretty capable of thinking for himself," said Monroe. He could hear Rosalee and Nick talk in the other room, albeit muffled. Someone else was there as well. Four voices. Monroe bit back what would have been a growl. Great, Renard was there too.

The voices were getting louder by the second and Monroe could hear Renard insist that they had every right to know what was on the other side of that door. Effectively meaning the door that was serving as the only protective medium between three angry cops and two teenagers - one with a wound large enough to warrant him unmoveable for the time being.

Sasuke scooted a little closer to Naruto as well, having grabbed a stool to sit on with the prospect of them staying for a while longer. Monroe was thankful the black-haired teen had sense enough to appear unthreatening should the three cops on the other side of the door decide that Rosalee had been stalling enough. Which was exactly what happened.

The door barged open.

"Sasuke Uchiha, you are under arrest and you have the right to remain silent," began Renard, not looking two seconds at Naruto now that he had spotted the other teen who was fighting hard not to rise from his seat and defend himself. It didn't help that Renard currently had his gun out and Naruto had started growling as a response to the immediate threat.

"I think we both know taking me to the station won't give you the satisfaction of killing me," said Sasuke. "And I strongly believe that is what you want - judging by the pistol and all that,"

Monroe had to hand it to the teen. Both of them, actually. Naruto had yet to bite someone's head off and Sasuke was doing a pretty good job at staying calm despite having a bright red bullseye on him. Nick and Hank stood behind Renard though none of them had drawn their pistol. Rosalee stormed in after them.

"You know what?" She said. "Right now I don't give a damn here who is Royal, criminal or cop, I have a patient who needs rest and firearms is a sure way _not_ to do that." She stared at Renard who slowly lowered his gun but kept a firm scowl in place, one that was only matched in intensity by the one on Sasuke's face. "Out! All of you!" Shooed Rosalee. When Sasuke made to get up, she shook her head.

"Not you," she said softly and gave the teen a soft smile. "He needs you here," a gesture towards Naruto and Sasuke noticed the slight change as well. Just a tiny hint of red in his right pupil but the Fuchsbau had spotted it. Sasuke grunted a thanks and turned around on his chair, speaking so softly to Naruto that even Nick couldn't hear the words being uttered.

"Front room," said Rosalee, standing in front of the two teens and efficiently blocking the cops' view. "Now." Left with no room for an argument, Renard led the way out to the main room of the store with a skulk in his long stride. His trenchcoat was waving wildly despite the lack of wind, almost as if the beige piece of clothing was reflecting the mood of its bearer.

Rosalee was the last one to leave the two teens and she firmly closed the wooden door behind her, not moving an inch when she saw the looks being thrown at her from all four guys in the room.

"I know what you are thinking," began Rosalee, sighing all the same. Men and their one track mind. "Yes, they came here for help. No, we didn't call you first thing, we were kind of busy trying to stop Naruto from bleeding all over the floor. And in case you were wondering, we were successful in removing the bullet and I have ordered him a few days of rest."

"How can you be so calm about all of this?" Asked Nick, shock evident in the way his body language was lax in posture but at the same time also rigid. A typical reaction.

"How can I not? I don't know if you noticed all the bloody towels and the 'almost died but survived a bullet only to have it removed in some shifty backroom' teenager on the desk, but right now - he's a patient and he needed help," said Rosalee, inches away from placing her hands on her hips, not feeling like being looked down at by the Grimm, whether or not that was his intention.

"Unless you have somehow been left out of the loop," tried Hank, throwing a nervous glare at the brown door separating them from the two teenagers. "We at least have one identified killer of a minimum of _five_ people and a partner in crime sitting less than three feet away from us, and you want us to not act on that? Or am I wrong?"

Rosalee shook her head and Monroe took a step closer, backing up the Fuchsbau before she could defend herself any further.

"I'm not exactly all that comfortable with the situation either but to be honest, those two are no brutal killers for fun. Whatever happened to Naruto when he became the new King, it changed something inside of him," said Monroe, hand gestures big. True, he hadn't been a big fan of taken in the two refugees either, but seeing them so concerned and willing to live despite immediate pain and voluntarily closing a raw wound with fire - that was commendable, even in his eyes.

"I'm with Rosalee on this one, but that's just my own opinion," he added, a glare and a scowl directed at the Blutbad with the courtesy of one very pissed off Zauberbeist. Nick sighed, clearly unsure whether to side with the two Wesen or his police connections.

"If you guys are willing to give them a chance, I want Naruto on the calming herbs Sasuke wanted me to mix yesterday," said Rosalee, already skimming the lower shelves to where she had put away the brew the day before. "We had him under a catnip incense during the procedure and he reacted to it really well,"

"If you don't count the time he was pretty keen on tearing someone's head off," huffed the Blutbad.

"Monroe!" Exclaimed Rosalee, clearly offended at the comment but the truth was in her eyes. The blonde had been close to snapping at one point, even though the catnip had done wonders and the Blutbad wouldn't let the problem go. "Okay, I admit there were difficulties, but Sasuke had him under control," she insisted and Monroe crossed his arms.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice how calm Naruto became the moment they held hands," she said. Hank raised an eyebrow.

"They held hands?" He asked as if it was the most ludicrous thing in the world. "Mr 'I hate everything in the whole world' actually held hands with another _guy_?"

Rosalee rolled her eyes, bending down and picking up a clear green bottle with a sticky liquid inside, the concoction clinging to the side of the glass and slowly trailing down in thick drops.

"Yes, Hank, they held hands and they are actually both pretty nice once you get past the rough exterior and tough attitude," she groaned as she pushed herself off the floor, refusing Monroe's hand and coming to a stop in front of the door as well.

"Hand holding aside," said Renard. "I need to speak to the both of them, and may I remind you," a pointed finger at the Fuchsbau. "That it is not your decision whether or not they stay in Portland."

"And it's not just yours either," countered Monroe, a meaningful glance in Nick's direction. The Grimm in question backed a little further away, not glad at the sudden change of subject but appreciated the effort nonetheless. Renard wasn't the only one running the show and he obviously knew it by the way he gave a grimace and proceeded to the door, not heeding the small threat behind those words.

It was Nick's turn to scowl. The Captain was not pleased by the turn of allegiance but he had to remember the hierarchy. While Renard might be a Royal, he was also a Zauberbeist which - in itself - would give Nick enough of a reason to do some last minute head chopping if needed.

"I say we talk, but we keep the guns to a minimum, agreed?" Asked Nick, one hand threading through his hair in frustration. Usually he looked to the Captain for orders, not the other way around. Or maybe it was because they simply hadn't spent enough time working together on Wesen cases. Or Renard disposed of the Wesen in his cases before they got out of hand. Like it was getting out of hand now.

"Fine," muttered Renard, waiting by the door for Nick to make the first step. He had become the unintentional leader of their small group even though the position was closely followed by Renard. It was funny how things worked out, and Nick had a feeling this would work out as well, past murders put behind them.

Nick opened the door to find the blonde no longer on the operation table but rather on the couch which had taken on a suspicious tone of red that he hadn't noticed before. It was Sasuke who spoke up first.

"I took the liberty of moving him to the couch," said the Uchiha. He had dragged the stool across the floor and was sitting on top of the red polstering as if he was completely at ease and not currently being stared at by three very surprised police officers. Rosalee barged through the human barrier with a smile on her face.

"Good, I didn't get the time to tell you it was okay, but I'm glad you made the decision yourself," she said. Looking at Naruto, she grabbed another stool herself and seated herself in front of the blonde, green bottle still in one hand. "And how are you doing?"

"Sore and feel like crap, but better than when the bullet was still inside," said Naruto. Sasuke had somehow managed to find the blonde a white t-shirt but Naruto had pulled the soft material up so it didn't scrape against his newly closed wound. "I'm to understand that you helped us despite knowing you might get in trouble," he added. "Thank you," Naruto bowed - or at least as much as he could while half-laying on a couch but Rosalee appreciated the effort, a small chuckle escaping her. The blonde was definitely amusing, and different - but in a good way.

Naruto cocked his head, looking past Rosalee's kind face and beyond, back to the doorway and the unfamiliar yet familiar people. "You're those cops, aren't you?" He asked. Nick found it strange how the blonde could be so calm about them, but then again, Nick wasn't trying to kill him at the same moment so it appeared to be some form of a mislead connection of trust.

"Yes, we are," said Renard, waiting for some sort of recognition from the blonde. But it didn't come. Naruto yawned before stretching, then wincing as it put strain on what appeared to be a newly burned wound, and snuggled further down into the couch. The blonde threw back his head so it could lean on the armrest of the battered couch, the stuffing lying in weird pulps and clumps, to look back up at the Uchiha. Said black-haired teen merely ruffled the sunshine like hair and Nick couldn't help but note how accurate the witness statement had been now that they weren't locked in a fierce combat of life and death. If Nick hadn't seen the blonde transform halfway into a bloodthirsty monster, he would never have believed Naruto to have one evil bone in his body.

The calm atmosphere was only added to when the blonde broke into a wholehearted laughter and grabbed Sasuke's hand in a mock gesture of trying to make the other teen stop ruffling his hair but to no avail.

Just how much catnip incense had Rosalee burned?

"Cut it out you two," said the Fuchsbau, but even she was holding one hand to her mouth to prevent herself from giggling at the interaction between the two teens. There were anything but the two desperate and bleeding criminals that had nearly dropped dead on her doorstep barely an hour before. "Okay, Naruto, I want you to take this twice a day, morning and after dinner - only one tablespoon, nothing more and nothing less. You will most likely feel a little bit lightheaded afterwards but it should wear off after a few minutes." She could see Sasuke eye the green bottle with mixed features and she almost felt like slapping herself. Of course the boy would be suspicious; three cops who he had just cheated into letting him out of their custody had just walked in and here she was with a bottle of something he had never seen before.

"Don't worry," said Rosalee before Sasuke had the chance to voice his fears. "It's the calming herbs we were making yesterday. I finished it after Hank and Nick had taken you back to the station - no use in letting perfectly good ingredients go to waste if you can avoid it." She handed the bottle to Sasuke, trusting him to remind Naruto to take the medication. "And you are under no circumstance to put any unnecessary strain on that wound, young man," the Fuchsbau stressed. She could guess by the blonde's grin that he wasn't one to listen to the doctor's orders and by saying it out loud now, she was sure Sasuke would keep an eye on the rebellious teen.

"I'll make sure he takes it," said Sasuke. Naruto blew a raspberry at the Uchiha and Nick was pretty sure the black-haired teen would pull out the blonde's tongue for such an action, but he only rolled his eyes and accepted the bottle from Rosalee.

"Can we get back on track?" Asked Renard. He had crossed his arms again and his foot was tapping against the floor in a restless pace. "Why are you in Portland?" Rosalee frowned at the police Captain but didn't dare risk giving him her own opinion about his selfish behaviour. So what if he had the best interests of Portland in mind, this was no way to treat her patients and she allowed a soft growl to emit from her throat. It was nothing like the ones Naruto had made during the operation, but she had a feeling that if she ever got the chance to show someone how you _shouldn't_ mess with a fox, the Fuchsbau's growl would come pretty damn close in comparison.

"To sum it up; Naruto was out of control, I followed him, I caught up in Portland," said Sasuke. His voice was level and monotone and his face had closed off again, his eyes steely determined not to let any emotion through their grey lenses and his face had hardened in a way Renard had barely seen even the most talented veterans do. "End of discussion."

Naruto was silent, one eye on Sasuke and the other on the rest of the occupants in the room - Rosalee and Monroe not included, he kind of liked those two even though they had met under the most terrible circumstances ever and the blonde was sure he wouldn't get another chance to make a good first impression. Like with the cops. That could have gone better.

"I assume it wasn't a coincidence that drew you to Portland of all places," sneered Renard. He was tired of their uncooperative answers and he was getting closer to losing his cool. Time was being wasted and he couldn't afford that. He had other business to attend to. Such as the scheduled phone meeting with the leaders of the resistance. Renard would personally put it on the two teens heads if he missed that call, all fancy titles and possible diplomatic immunity thrown aside.

"To be honest, I have no idea," said Naruto, seeing a way into the conversation. While he may not have been conscious for a lot of the action, he could at least try to help clear up some of the more confusing parts - even if Sasuke was being an asshole about it as usual. Even now, the Uchiha was scoffing at him and the blonde pouted in a silent retort. "I'll give you a straight answer unlike Mr Tomato here-" an incredulous splutter from Sasuke. "But I felt drawn here,"

Naruto looked straight at Renard, not intimidated in the slightest by his mean scowl or second rate glare. If he was immune to the Uchiha glare, then he wouldn't be intimidated by a mere police Captain. "I strongly believe it has something to do with my new position as Kyuubi," at Rosalee's delicately raised eyebrow, Naruto delved further into his explanation. "I think you called him the Ninth King or something like that?"

"Yeah," said Monroe, positively beaming at this new piece of juicy information. "So you really are the King?" He continued and at Naruto's confused nod, the Blutbad became flustered. "It's just that a lot of us Wesen thought you were nothing but a myth, that you weren't real - I mean, I grew up with the stories of the Ninth King who would one day free all Wesen from the Grimms' evil grasp …" with that last comment, Monroe threw a careful glance at Nick. "No offense,"

"None taken," assured Nick. He had gathered that from the Captain and Monroe's Wesen song as well. It was a story to tell Wesen children when they were afraid the big bad Grimm would get them under the cover of darkness. Nick couldn't get mad at them for having a healthy way of ridding themselves of their fears and he wasn't going to start now.

"So you are indeed the Royal King of the Wesen, the aforementioned Ninth King in the sonnet written by Kenshin Uchiha?" Asked Renard, steering the conversation back on track. Sasuke gave a slight twitch at the mention of another Uchiha's name and Naruto didn't blame him. No matter how much they had both laid the massacre behind them, it was still a sore subject and having strangers so casually flick out the clan name was not the best of ideas.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say I know that 'sonnet' thing you are talking about, but I am what you might consider the Ninth King," said Naruto, taking charge of the situation before Sasuke could throw one of his 'don't you dare talk about my clan' speeches.

"According to the information we have managed to gather from Sasuke and other sources, can we assume that you were not born Wesen?" Asked Nick. That was the part that had intrigued him the most and also made him wary. If there was a chance humans could be made into Wesen instead of being born as such, it could pose a whole new level of problems for the Grimms around the world.

"You're right, I wasn't born Wesen, but from the moment I was born I wasn't exactly what you would call human either," Naruto had turned quieter and by the haunted look in those blue eyes, Nick wasn't sure he wanted to know what he had been before.

"Explain," commanded Renard and Nick could see just how much Sasuke wanted to tear the Captain a new one for that comment.

"Nineteen years ago, on the tenth of October, the current Kyuubi - Kurama - attacked our village under the influence of an enemy and proceeded to wipe out most of our military forces. The leader of our village at that time, my father, the Fourth Hokage used a technique that would ensure the sealing of the demon into a newborn child," said Naruto but broke off. The blonde wasn't on the verge of tears, but it was obvious to everyone in the room that this wasn't something you just said out loud over a cup of coffee. This was serious.

"That was you, wasn't it?" Asked Rosalee. Naruto nodded and the Fuchsbau found herself leaning in to hug the teenager. For the moment, she would blame it on her own Fuchsbau's nature as a reaction to a fellow fox's need for comfort. The blonde sniffled and leaned into the hug and Rosalee was aware of the Uchiha's snaking hand coming to rest on top of Naruto's head as he gently combed his fingers through the blonde hair.

"I became a Jinchuuriki," he said, as if that closed the subject and perhaps it did, but to Nick and Hank, it was all that more confusing until they heard Monroe give a startled gasp.

"A Dämon Opfer?" He asked, eyes wide and fearful - close to that of a deer in the headlights expression. "I thought that wasn't possible?"

If Nick had been shocked at Monroe's reaction, it was nothing compared to that of Renard's. The Zauberbeist had paled considerably and his agitated posture had disappeared like the air from a balloon. For a moment, Nick thought the Captain was going to throw up, but instead, Renard's voice was small and weak compared to its usual commanding tone.

"How did you survive for that long?" He asked and Nick found himself growing more confused by the second.

"Will anybody explain what the heck a Jinchu-what-now is?" Asked Hank, voicing Nick's displeasure of having been left out of the loop. It was the one thing Nick hated about having grown up with the lack of stories or knowledge that would usually have been passed down from parent to child. He had been sent away so his mom could do her job as a Grimm and had let him believe she had been dead only to pop back later in his life. No, the Grimm was done being left behind just because he was a little late getting to know this side of the world.

It was Sasuke who answered Hank's question while Naruto untangled himself from Rosalee's motherly grip but the sudden tension in the room had increased tenfold and the air suddenly felt strained and slightly musty.

"A Jinchuuriki is a person who have taken on the responsibility of becoming living prisons, using their very existence to keep demons sealed and away from other people. You are essentially two personalities sharing one body with one mind as the main dominant one," he explained and Nick saw how Naruto had taken a sudden interest in the many rows of jars on the lower shelves. "For some Jinchuuriki, the demon invades their mind, unable to keep the flow of insanity at bay and others - like Naruto - makes peace with their inner demon and come to some sort of allegiance,"

Renard took a step back. "You were able to make peace with an ancient Wesen?"

"Yes," said Naruto. His eyes had taken on an odd distant look, but they remained blue. "Kurama became a parent figure since I didn't have the luxury of a family. I was alone for the most part of my life until I finally managed to gain a few friends," at this, the blonde gave Sasuke a small smile. Not like the big grins he had plastered on his face throughout Renard's questioning as if the hostility hadn't faced him at all. Though, considering what Nick had just heard, the blonde was most likely used to worse.

"The villagers used to rejoice whenever I got a mission that meant there was the slightest potential I would get killed," said the blonde who had drawn his knees up in front of his face now. To hide tears or simply to shield himself from the pitying looks he was currently receiving, Nick would never know.

Sasuke scowled and Nick could practically feel his angry vibes from across the room. It was no secret the two teenagers were fond of each other and this only fueled that theory.

"Only one more reason why I wanted to kill them," sneered the Uchiha and this time it was Naruto who placed a hand on top of Sasuke's curled fist.

"If you had killed them you wouldn't be any better than the villagers," said Naruto, as if that explained everything. And in a way it did. Sasuke had obviously been prepared to slaughter an entire village for the sake of his best friend but Naruto had somehow convinced the Uchiha that revenge wasn't the answer.

Nick knew how hard it could be to put something like that behind you. Heck, Renard admitted to have attempted to murder his aunt and had used Adalind to get to Nick - through _Hank_ which was simply unacceptable in so many ways. But they had put the past behind them, even going as far as to call Renard a sort of friend - albeit a friend in lesser degree.

It was strange seeing the tender look that came upon the stoic Uchiha's face and Nick knew it was entirely because of Naruto. Those two functioned because of each other, and the Grimm would respect that.

"We still have another matter to discuss," began Renard, although he had one foot half out of the room. "Naruto, I understand that you might not have been in complete control of your actions which led to the death of five people, but I cannot allow you to roam the streets for now."

Sasuke was ready to get up from his chair and defend the blonde but Naruto shook his head.

"I understand," he said.

"However, until I am done with my meeting in a few hours, you must remain hidden here. I will be back and we shall further discuss this matter. To be honest, I'm unsure where I shall stand on this, but for the next two hours, you have the benefit of my doubt. Should I find that you have left the safety of the spice shop, I will personally assist a couple of Hundjäger and put you down no matter the position you now hold. Am I making myself clear?" Asked Renard.

"Yes, sir," said Naruto while Sasuke remained quiet. The Uchiha gave Naruto a curious look, questioning his open acceptance of taking orders from someone who was not their Hokage but the blonde shrugged in response. Now was not the time to be defiant about orders - not with both of their lives on the line.

"Ah, yes, one more thing before I go," Renard had his back to the rest of the room but with an almost pleading look on his face, he turned towards Rosalee. "May I ask for the bullet you pulled out? I have a few theories I would like to follow up on,"

"Sure," said Rosalee, sending Monroe in search for a plastic bag while she located the pair of pliers still holding the bullet. The crumpled silver was bloody and almost unrecognizable but Renard accepted it either way, one of his eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the material. Silver could be bent to your will if worked on while in a room with a gentle temperature and most old time smiths preferred to work on the material while it was not red-hot. Using silver as bullets was something entirely new but also disturbing and Renard didn't do well with disturbing. It meant he wasn't in control.

Renard put the plastic bag away. Fear clouded judgement and judgement was something he relied on. "Nick, Hank," he barked out. "I want you to stay here until I get back - and no, Hank, I don't mean necessarily in this room." Hank grinned, slightly put off by how quickly the Captain had deciphered his almost inquisitive look.

"Will do, sir," said Nick and made a grab for one of the stools near the desk in the middle of the room. Might as well get comfortable for the next two hours.

"Actually, I would like everyone to leave so Naruto might actually get the rest I specifically ordered him," said Rosalee, already half-dragging Nick away from his seat.

"Damn," muttered Hank and Rosalee knew she had made the right decision. Monroe was pouting and thinking that - like Hank - they were missing a perfectly good opportunity to ask Naruto some questions of their own. Like, where were they from? How come they both had had such terrible lives at such a young age? Rosalee knew those questions because she wanted to know as well. The Fuchsbau just chose not to act on her own selfish reasonings.

It wasn't before she had closed the door as the last person that Nick seemed to find something amiss.

"Wait," he began, brows furrowed in confusion. "What about Sasuke?"

Rosalee barely held back her grin before the boys could see it. They were still hopelessly clueless about everything between the two teenagers. It was almost cute how they just passed off the gentle gestures as friendly, though Rosalee doubted that Nick would ever hold hands with Hank if she asked them to, but maybe then they would get it. No, probably not.

"Just leave them be," she said, stalking over to the counter. "I'm sure Sasuke needs some sleep as well," Monroe was the only one who seemed to find it strange. Perhaps because he was the only other one with some type of medicinal experience, or simply because he knew Rosalee too well and could see the light mirth hidden beneath her quivering shoulders.

The Fuchsbau pulled out a can from one of the cabinets under the counter and shook it gently, the liquid contents swishing in the metallic container.

"Does anybody want some coffee?" She asked.

* * *

><p>It had been exactly two hours and forty five minutes since Renard had left the building. Hank was sure if he drank one more cup of herbal coffee, he would pull his gun on the Captain next time he laid eyes on the smug Zauberbeist. It would seem the term 'coffee' differed should you ever find yourself in a spice shop run by a Fuchsbau. The idea of 'coffee' could be strangely stretched if the owner of said spice shop ran out of beans after the third round and decided to replace it with oats without telling the current coffee drinkers.<p>

Nick was the one who had complained about the sudden switch of ingredients the most. Neither Hank nor Monroe blamed the Grimm for violently spitting out a mouthful of oaty liquid after the first mouthful. Rosalee had been offended either way but even the Blutbad had not sided with his fiancee on that one.

"It's not that bad," she argued and took a cautious sniff from the can herself. She physically recoiled 0.2 seconds after smelling the brown substance. "Okay," she wheezed, eyes watering. "I'll see if I can find something to make this better."

And the Fuchsbau had returned after exactly thirteen minutes and thirty eight seconds with a set of bitter smelling herbs and different flavour boosters. But it had helped.

While the contents of the 'coffee' had turned out to become something akin to a mint tea mixed with honey in the end, Hank couldn't blame Rosalee for at least trying. The woman made one hell of a cup of tea, that was for sure.

But a man can only take so much tea, and Hank had reached his limit forty five minutes ago.

The shrill sounding bell of the front door opened again and in walked Renard, his face set in stone and an expression Hank hadn't seen on the Captain's face since he heard the news of his brother's death. A weird grimace of disgust, slight glee and something Hank associated with psychotic drug dealers who had just been busted in a surprise raid.

Nick nearly fell off his damn chair in his haste to follow the Captain who - rather roughly - tugged the door to the spare room open without Rosalee's permission.

"Hey!" She exclaimed. "I haven't said you could go in."

But Renard stopped on his own accord, the grimace on his face falling away to be replaced by a bright red. With a flustered face, he turned to face Rosalee, his frame taken up the door so none of the others could see what was going on.

"Did you know they were-"

"Yes," said Rosalee, crossing her arms. "May I remind you, that everything I do is for a reason," and the moment Renard stepped out of the doorway, hastily retreating back to the front room, Hank saw why his Captain had dropped all of his professional mannerisms.

"What the …" began Monroe but trailed off, his face doing a very good imitation of a gaping fish and Nick followed suit seconds after. Hank himself found he should have seen it coming.

Naruto was indeed getting his recommended sleep, now laying on top of a dozing Sasuke. The Uchiha had somehow managed to squeeze himself between the pillows so he was trapped by the couch beneath him and the snoring Naruto on his chest. The black-haired teen hand one hand draped across Naruto's waist and the other was hanging limply over the side of the couch, currently touching the floor.

Both were sound asleep despite the brief interruption and following comments.

"Aren't they just the cutest?" Asked Rosalee, walking into the room without hesitation.

"Am I supposed to comment on that?" Asked Hank. None of the other guys were too keen about entering the room but the mustached man quickly overcame the small shock of seeing the teens - well, together - for a lack of better words.

"Stop being such cowards and just get in here already," said Hank. It was one thing to be shocked, but downright refusing to come into the room? Hell no, not on his watch.

What surprised him the most was the fact that Renard was the last one to enter the room and he quickly chose a corner opposite of the drowsing teens. Hank had never expected the Captain to be one of those homophobic guys, but this sure changed a few opinions.

Almost as if Renard had heard him, the man shook his head and determination entered his eyes. Hank could just picture the trenchcoat swaying dangerously in some form of invisible air, even when inside. He sniggered softly to himself at that thought. All they needed now was some Bad Boys music and the Captain was good to go.

"Will you just wake them up already?" snapped the Captain and the Fuchsbau looked ready to bark back until she thought better of it. It wouldn't do anyone any good if they scared the two teens, none of them sure whether or not how much control Naruto would have so long after the catnip incense.

"Sweeties," said Rosalee, shaking their shoulders gently, wanting to wake both Naruto and Sasuke at the same time. "You need to wake up now,"

While Naruto stirred and bleary blue opened for the rest of the world to see, the Uchiha tightened his grip on the blonde who groaned in response. "Teme, let me go," and Sasuke did, reluctantly and slightly perturbed at the interruption, but he heeded the advice nonetheless. It took Naruto a few seconds to take in his surroundings, mouth overtaken by a yawn as he sat up, slipping from Sasuke's strong grip so they could actually sit on the couch. The black-haired teen pulled up his long-sleeved shirt, tugging the snug material over his mouth and he lamely gave a shudder.

Nick was seconds away from laughing. So the dangerous brother killer was actually a secret snuggler who didn't enjoy having his lovely nap ruined. The Grimm would do wise to keep that in mind.

Renard snapped his fingers in front of Sasuke's face. While the Captain was impatient in every way possible, he didn't dare test the limits he had been given by Naruto. His status as another Royal could only get him so far. "Are you two awake now or do you want me to come back later?" The sarcasm in his voice was both unneeded and unappreciated. The two teens were capable of seeing through Renard's facade within the beat of an eye.

"I think we all know you wouldn't walk out of that door before you have a clear idea of where we are going to be staying and for how long," said Sasuke, leaning back into the couch. One of his arms had sneaked over Naruto's shoulder and the blonde gladly leaned into the embrace. Nick could almost hear Rosalee go _aww_ in the background but the Fuchsbau held it in.

"So I guess you are going to continue being the smart one," said Renard, a stinging retort left on his tongue. The Captain knew when to pick his fights and this wasn't one of them.

"Naruto is the usuratonkachi," said Sasuke. "Hey!" The blonde shoved the black-haired teen off of himself with a laugh. A quick peck to the lips later, Naruto was back in the Uchiha's embrace, a large smile plastered onto his face.

At any other moment, Renard would have felt utterly embarrassed and would most likely have looked away and granted the two the privacy they desperately craved, but now was not the time to let his own prejudices hold him back.

"I got a hold of some of my contacts in Germany and they proceeded to inform me of what will no longer be an upcoming issue," said Renard. His hand was trailing through his short trimmed hair and the Captain looked older than he should have. All tassels, loose locks and haunted eyes. Something was wrong.

"What do you mean no longer an issue?" Asked Nick. If his pulse had the ability to go up, now would have been a good time and with the way Renard didn't meet his eyes, the Grimm knew something big was going down. Or would go down. In Portland. Again.

"Wait, is this something I even _want_ to know?" Asked Hank, the mustached man backing up against the door if a quick escape plan had to be formed within the next two seconds of Renard's answer. The Captain sighed but acknowledged Hank's question before Nick's.

"I'm afraid I am going to have to ask you to stay. I'm going to need all hands on deck for this one," he said. His shoulders were hunched and he drew one of the red stools before either Monroe or Rosalee could stop him. Not that they looked like they wanted to. It was as clear as day to anyone who had seen him three hours before that the meeting had gnawed at his remaining energy in the worst possible way. "The bullet that I borrowed? It would seem that silver bullets are a speciality of the Californian Royal family."

Rosalee gasped and Monroe took just a step closer to the Fuchsbau while Naruto's hand found its way to Sasuke's, their fingers linking within moments. Nick had a sudden urge to hug Juliette the moment he got home and Hank squirmed in his spot. Three wives later and the man still hadn't found the one. Nick knew that without Juliette, he would be lost in so many ways. And the time after the former redhead had lost her memory it had felt as if she _was_ gone, but somehow still within reach. Yes, Nick could relate to why Sasuke felt the need to be close with Naruto now. Who knows how long the black-haired teen had been chasing after the blonde before finally catching up with him in Portland. It could have been weeks or even months and Sasuke wasn't one for talking about such things in the first place.

"Why would the Californian Royals want to take me down?" Asked Naruto, his face taking on a serious expression Nick couldn't help but find unfitting on such a young face. Whatever the blonde had endured at the hands of his own villagers, it had shaped him into someone who was young and slightly fragile on the outside while old and experienced on the inside.

Renard looked at the palm of his hands before rubbing them into his eyes. The meeting had taken its toll, especially with the news as dire as this. "It would seem that your reputation has exceeded the speed of your own journey. You left a trail of open Wesen activity from Osaka through Copenhagen until you finally wound up in Portland of all places," the Captain was raking his hands through his hair again. Rosalee was on the borderline decision of lighting a candle imbued with catnip incense but before she had the chance, Renard slumped back into the failing red polster of the chair and took a deep breath. One thing caught Nick's interest more than the threat of the Royal families.

"A trail all across the globe? And what sort of _trail_ are we talking about?" He asked. God, could things get more complicated? "As if five bodies in Portland alone wasn't going to attract attention …" Nick could feel a headache coming, just rounding that corner with 80 miles per hour.

Naruto became rigid in his seat and with a harshness and anger the Grimm didn't believe the young teenager to possess, he glared with all the force he could muster in his still slumber ridden mind. "I didn't kill anyone before Portland if that's what you are trying to indicate!" One eye sparked red and Sasuke was quick to pull the blonde back into a quick hug and the touch of red disappeared as fast as it had come.

"No need to get angry," Nick took a step back just in case but he didn't raise his hands in defence. While Naruto was a teenager, this burst of raw anger only served to further prove the blonde capable of murder.

Naruto relaxed into Sasuke's touch and the Uchiha whispered something into his ear, a flyaway strand of blonde hair blown aside by the other boy's breath. The others - perhaps with the exception of Monroe and Rosalee - would have had no way of hearing what the black-haired teen said, but Nick heard it, loud and clear despite the fact it made no sense. A jumble of sounds that in some way could have resembled words but Nick didn't know when one word ended and another one began. He vaguely remembered one of the late nights in the trailer when Monroe had read up from one of the Japanese entries, the words strained and rusty sounding - unnatural from the Blutbad's mouth compared to his german speech. But this was something else. It was fluid and smooth and caring - like the tip of a brush writing kanji on a scroll. Foreign but fascinating.

Whatever words Sasuke had uttered, it seemed to have done wonders with the blonde who now fully relaxed into the lumpy blotches of stuffing scattered around the battered old couch. His features had calmed down immensely and there were no traces of red in either eyes.

"Sorry," said Naruto, and he meant it. While his eyes didn't seek out Nick's own, the Grimm knew it was the blonde's way of apologizing. "But if you think 'open' Wesen activity is all about killing, you are wrong, though," he continued. Nick looked at Monroe and Rosalee who both hesitantly gave him a small smile. "While a lot of the Wesen out there can't help but kill because it's in their blood or it's simply a ritual that needs to be fulfilled, it can be all about leaving behind a presence as well."

Renard looked up from his tired gaze which had lingered on the nicked floorboards and his face became more alive. Well, thought Nick, at least his Captain knew what it was about.

Judging by the position of Hank's eyebrows, the Grimm could only guess that Hank was following just as well as he was - which meant they weren't really getting any of it, but hey, points for trying at least.

"When a powerful Wesen goes somewhere they don't feel at home, it can sometimes," Naruto struggled for the right word, the tip of his tongue darting playfully out from behind sealed lips and Sasuke took the opportunity for a quick peck again. While Naruto appeared thrilled by the affection from the Uchiha, Nick was just glad the blonde broke the kiss to continue his sentence as soon as he had found his missing word. "_Compel_ us to leave something behind. And while most Wesen don't know how to use the energy inside of them efficiently enough, some of us can leave behind a trace of energy. A signature, if you like. I'm guessing that's how Sasuke managed to track me as well," he glanced at the smirking teen beside him and the Uchiha gave a small nod. Naruto punched the other boy playfully on the shoulder, no words exchanged between them but Nick knew a bond when he saw one. And this was the strongest he had ever had the chance to witness.

"But why Portland?" Asked Renard, once more joining the conversation. "Why of all the places you could choose, would you go to a large city with people who could - potentially - be your next victims? It still doesn't make sense. There had to have been a reason somewhere …" Naruto flinched as the topic of his victims surfaced but didn't comment. The blonde teen drew a long sigh and slumped his shoulders. The weariness in his body language gave away his tiredness despite his obvious wish to stay awake and finish the conversation.

"I think you're right," he said. "When I became the new Kyuubi, I inherited a lot of memories. Not personal ones - thank God for that - but the memories of places Kurama had been to and knowledge about what I had become and what I would be capable of," the blonde, wisely enough, chose not to elaborate but Nick saw his Captain's eyebrows shoot up again in obvious hunger for more information while Hank shrugged his shoulders. Monroe and Rosalee were barely following the conversation anymore, preferring to silently watch Naruto as the blonde grew more and more tired and Nick admired their professionality despite the somewhat absurd situation.

"Somewhere in that bucket of information, there must have been something about Portland that - even despite working purely on instincts - was strong enough to lead me here of all places. Something Kurama would have wanted to either tell me or show me at some point before he passed away and now those memories are acting on their own." Concluded Naruto and Sasuke's lips had a small quirk to them; a sort of upwards curl that could have resembled a sort of proud smile if it had been rescaled by a thousand times to a size where normal people could have seen it. But Naruto saw it and Nick couldn't help but smile as well.

Hank cleared his throat, not too keen on being completely forgotten because of his lacking knowledge of the Wesen community and everything in between. "So," began the mustached man when he finally managed to gather Monroe and Rosalee's attention along with that of a glowering Uchiha. "What's the plan?"

Renard took immediate action, jumping from his chair with such springy steps that Nick wondered how the Captain hadn't managed to not knock over the stool in the process. "While I would gladly see the two of you leave town, I no longer believe that to be a logical solution to our Royal problem," he said. "Anyone with a few Wesen contacts could possibly find out about the Ninth King song and interpret it correctly within minutes. Besides, if the Californian family has already done it, Viktor won't be far behind …" Naruto exchanged a confused look with Sasuke but only the blonde managed to fully display his befuddlement with a frown on his lips.

Renard chose to elaborate upon seeing this.

"Crown Prince Viktor Albert Wilhelm George Beckendorf of the Royal family situated in Vienna-" Naruto let out a small laugh, and Nick could almost hear him say _who would have such a ridiculously long name?_

Renard continued without interruption. "My ever so trustworthy cousin whom I would rather see at the bottom of the ocean, but regrettably, that is not an option at the moment."

"I'm guessing he is going to be a problem," said Sasuke. While he hadn't outright laughed at Prince Viktor's name, there had been unhindered mirth concealed in those otherwise cold eyes and Nick strongly suspected it was because of Naruto that the Uchiha had loosened up.

"Unfortunately so, and I believe it to be in everyone's best interest when I ask the two of you to stay in Portland where I can keep an eye on you - and Rosalee can keep giving you a treatment which will hopefully help you with those 'anger issues' you might want to get under control as quickly as possible." The Captain even used quotation marks and Hank sniggered but the Royal paid him no attention.

Naruto turned to Sasuke with a displeased look on his normally light face. "So we can't go home yet?" He inquired and the Uchiha shook his head.

"No," he said. "Besides, I want to have you under control before we get back. The council wasn't exactly _forthcoming_ with Tsunade's request that I be the one to track you down without the aid of ANBU." Naruto shuddered and Nick thought he heard a distinctively muttered _old farts_, but the voice was barely above a whisper caught and whisked away by a stray wind.

Nick rolled the name on his tongue. Tsunade.

It sounded like some brand name of sake but by the way Sasuke had said it - just a tiny hint of annoyance mixed with a teaspoon of barely withheld gratitude - it was almost impossible to copy. To Nick's great amusement, he saw Monroe do the same.

His lips puckered out as he tried to imitate the way Sasuke's mouth had formed at the syllables but he remained as hopeless as Nick. It came out as a garbled version of something that would surely have put the foreigners to shame in the worst possible way, should they have heard their feeble tries, but Nick doubted it. Sasuke appeared to have great hearing, but he was caught up in an unpleasant memory if the look on his face was anything to go by. Brows furrowed and one cheek sucked in. It appeared the council were not ones to be messed with, or they were downright assholes. Probably both, Nick mused.

"When we get home, can't we just say I missed my medication the day before and I 'accidently' slip into my Kyuubi form?" There was a whine in the blonde's voice and it was almost pitiful how he begged but the Uchiha grinned at the proposition.

"However much the sadistic side of me wants to agree, we both know that's not an option. Besides, Tsunade would know and you can't lie your way out of that one," said Sasuke and the Uchiha crossed his legs, a playful smirk coming to light as the teen closed his eyes. Undoubtedly imagining the thirteen most plausible ways to kill the council members. Burning them on a pyre, throwing them into a pit full of sharp rocks, feeding them to wild animals. There were a lot of ways a man could get away with murder and Nick never once doubted Sasuke was plenty capable of developing such a plan.

"I guess you're right," said Naruto and pulled Sasuke from whatever bloody vision he had been thinking of. The answer could have applied to both Sasuke's statement and Renard's earlier declaration of them needing to stay in Portland, but when the blonde didn't actively seek out eye contact with either of them, it was obvious the answer had been for them both. It was with a sigh Naruto plunged back into the couch, sending up a snowstorm of dust bunnies from the fabric of the musty sofa. It hadn't been comfortable sleeping on, but the nap had been softened by a very mushy Sasuke and the blonde couldn't help but feel refreshed either way despite his body demanding more sleep than they possibly had time for.

"Speaking of our sadistic sides," said Renard. "We have another problem to attend to."

Now it was Nick's turn to frown - it would seem the frowning was going in circles - because the Captain was looking straight at him as he spoke. Surely _he_ wasn't going to be a problem, Grimm or no Grimm. "Our perfectly capable two detectives have seemingly put out an APB on Sasuke after the second crime scene - it was justified, mind you - and it hasn't been pulled out of the system yet."

Sasuke leaned forward, fingers interlocking as he rested his chin on his hands. "And that means?" He asked. For someone not used to speaking with cops, Nick could see the teen's dilemma and while Sasuke was awake and alert, Naruto's eyelids were drooping lower by the second. Luckily for the blonde, Sasuke seemingly had no qualms about being used as a human pillow while trying to maintain his air of seriousness.

"All Points Bulletin. It's a directive for all units to be on the lookout for someone of the description they have received, meaning you. While arresting you earlier on, we would normally have taken the APB out of the system and filed you in as a possible suspect, but since we now brought you along to the third crime scene and several officers have seen us working with you, it would no longer be an option."

"Why not?" The blonde was snoring lightly and his frame shook as Sasuke spoke with a rumble.

"An APB cannot be taken out of the system without either a Captain's authorization because the case has been closed and the call was a mistake, or because a profile can be connected with the APB. In that case, the APB will stay in the system until the suspect is either caught or apprehended meaning we would have to take you down to the station again, declare you an official suspect, see that you have no immigration papers, transfer you to another department dealing with the involvement of illegal immigrants and somehow still be at our precinct available for questioning when needed." Renard swallowed and if Naruto had been awake, he would have stared at Renard just like Monroe was. Eyes wide and astonished by the length of the sentence coming out of the Captain's mouth. "All in all, impossible if you want to stay in Portland and keep an eye on Naruto."

"You're right, but then what? We can't stay cooped up in here forever, and besides, if you do code me in to match the APB, your officers will recognize me and then you three will be in trouble as well. Not that I would actually care, but if it means the lesser chance of us finding a way out of this hellhole, I'm not too keen on you three being held in suspension because of your involvement with me." Said Sasuke. While it stung the Grimm that they didn't mean anything to the Uchiha, Nick could see the teen's point of view. They were the means to an end and they were willing to work with that.

"Crap," said Hank and Nick had a feeling the mustached man had remembered the same as the Grimm had at the mention of their involvement. "What the hell are we supposed to write in our goddamn report?" Before Renard had the chance to properly form an answer, Hank ranted on.

"Got a text from my partner that he was letting a possible suspect lead him away from backup and into an abandoned building where a nine tailed fox was ready to gobble us up and if I hadn't made it in time, it might have eaten my partner but I shot it in the shoulder and it disappeared in a haze of leaves along with the potential suspect? Shit, man, they don't even know were still not out there in the field!" Hank was over the top and Sasuke had visibly tensed and drawn Naruto a few inches closer to himself at the mention of Hank shooting Naruto. The black-haired teen probably hadn't had the overview at the time to realize it had been Hank who had taken the shot.

"Detective Griffin," said Renard, his voice eerily calm and the mustached man instantly fell silent, an apologetic, nervous smile on his face. "I have informed the officers on scene that we had other, more urgent matters to attend to that could not be discussed openly in front of those not involved and that there is no need to expect a report on the possible gun shots heard in the forest this early afternoon. Don't sweat it detective, all in good time."

Hank's shoulders fell and the man relaxed but his eyes clearly showed how worked up he had been. Nick didn't know if Hank had had the forethought to think of all those things in the time in between discussions, but Nick knew he surely hadn't given it a single thought for the almost three hours they had poured down herbal coffee.

"Then what's the plan?" Asked Sasuke. The teen was on edge and he looked as wound up as an elastic ready to spring. For all Nick knew, the Uchiha actually was a spring when everyone else could see his emotions. Only around Naruto did the black-haired teen fully relax and only then did he seem to enter a world beyond that of the real one.

Renard tugged his gaze from a nearly hyperventilating Hank - who had been given a brown paper bag by a frightened Rosalee - and back to the Uchiha who was currently threading his fingers through Naruto's blonde strands. There were clumps of dried blood still stuck and Sasuke had taken it upon himself to sort it out before the blonde woke up from his momentary snooze. Nick grimaced, he wouldn't like waking up to bloody hair either. Rosalee had noticed the gesture as well and when she took the bag from Hank as he got his breathing under control, the Fuchsbau fetched another towel, wettened it and handed it to the Uchiha who let out a small grunt of gratitude. At the very least, the boy had manners.

"The most logical solution would be to wait this out, but seeing as the investigation has witnesses who can link either you are Naruto to one or more of the scenes, it's possible the APB could stay in our system for quite a long time - which means we are ruling that option out completely. I don't suppose either of you have a couple of years to spare and can wait for the clamour to calm down?" Renard was mocking the two teens but the Uchiha paid the Captain's sparse tone no further attention and nodded for him to continue, the teen's hands preoccupied with cleaning Naruto to be in some form of a presentable shape by the time he woke up.

"The other solution would require some more work on my detectives part-" Hank snorted in frustration, knowing full well that 'some' work usually meant a lot. "They will enter the records themselves through the computers down at the precinct and simply hit the delete button on your supposed profile." Nick's eyes bulged and he stifled a broken cough threatening to spill over his lips.

"Isn't that illegal?" Asked Sasuke with a smirk on his face. The damn bastard had probably seen the Grimm's slip up but wasn't about to comment on it. Renard had his side facing Nick and to the Captain it remained unclear whether or not the smirk on the teen's face had been spurred on by his ridiculous suggestion or simply by an amusing thought of his own.

"Very illegal," responded Renard with a grin of his own, lips quirking up just the slightest and Nick mused how alike the two of them actually were. While Sasuke was protective of Naruto, Renard was fiercely protective of Portland and anyone who might endanger those he consider allies. One thing Nick wasn't so sure the two of them shared, was Sasuke's obvious sexual orientation. But then again, the Grimm hadn't actually seen Renard with a woman for a long time. Nick resisted the urge to sigh, way to go brain, another mystery to solve and little time to do it in.

"I assure you that my detectives are fully capable of operating a computer. Mind you, they have done something illegal quite a few times already," Nick felt a knot in his stomach loosen considerably. So Renard had noticed the few 'mistakes' where they had accidentally let a suspect slip away from their grasp or they might not have seen 'who' came running down the street in a very suspicious way. It was nice to know the Captain was still partially on their side though Nick doubted Renard hadn't at least dabbled a little bit on the wrong side of the law himself. Quite a few times, actually, considering the sudden disappearances of key witnesses or Verrats turning up dead without Nick's interference. He would have to thank the Captain for that later.

"But to do so, it would require that both you and Naruto stay incognito for a little longer. Although I'm sure Rosalee wouldn't mind giving you shelter for a few hours more," said Renard, waving a hand. Almost as if to agree with the sudden demand of shelter, the Fuchsbau smiled at Sasuke and the teen responded with a smile of his own. It could very well have been the resemblance between the Fuchsbau and the obvious fox traits of Naruto's own that had made the Uchiha open up, if only a little bit, to the woman.

"Nick," said Renard, pulling the Grimm from his musings and the slight change of tone caused Hank to squirm beside him. "Do I have to remind you not to use your own computer for this delicate matter? By this time, the precinct should be fairly deserted, but if anyone should be there, make up some sort of excuse without being too obvious. And while the tech team is incredibly incompetent when dealing with software upgrading, they should be able to pull a timecode from when the APB was taken out of the system and find the matching IP address linked with it. Do not let yourself have _anything_ to do with it, am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," said Nick and stood up just a tiny bit straighter. While the Grimm wouldn't entrust the Captain with his life - perhaps a small part of his life, and most certainly in cop related matters like that of the warehouse incident - he would trust him enough to let both himself and Hank get off the hook should the matter of a suddenly missing APB pop up. The Captain would have plenty of upcoming opportunities to protect his detectives should it ever lead for there to be an inquiry on the matter.

"So, we are going, like, right now?" Asked Hank, shifting from one foot to the other and wincing whenever he had to lean on the one with the torn achilles tendon from his ski trip with Nadine. It had been a while since the incident but old habits died hard. Including those brought on by a sickly nature.

Renard glared at the mustached man before fully turning on the red stool.

"You better get going, if that is what you are insinuating,"


	7. Never Do The Dirty Work

**I want to thank Sin of Justice for being my first reviewer, by the way :) Better late than never, right?**

**And a Happy B-day to everyone's fave Jinchuuriki 3**

**Warning: Blatant references and coffee maniacs.**

* * *

><p>"Why Does The Captain Never Do The Dirty Work?"<p>

Chapter VI

"It's official, I hate the Captain," moaned Hank.

Winter was visible on the horizon but the car ride back to the precinct had been stifling hot and the knowledge of what they were supposed to do when they got backed had worked up both of their nerve systems to shivering masses of nervous jittering. Hank even managed to knock off his own sunglasses when he nearly missed a turn three blocks away from HQ. They had managed to park fairly close but neither Nick nor Hank were in any particular hurry to get out of the car - firmly resulting in Hank's reluctance to remove his clenching fists from the steering wheel. Letting a suspect escape at a crime scene because of a last minute change of heart was something entirely different from going in with the intention of doing something illegal. Which they were about to do right now.

Hank's pitiful moans of injustice filled the silence that threatened to drag on until Nick took a chance and opened the door of the car.

"Come on, the longer we keep dragging it out, the longer before it's done," reasoned the Grimm, one hand on top of the car and his head barely visible from Hank's position in the drivers seat. The mustached man made a grab for the door handle with a groan.

The sound of Hank's car door slamming was enough to jerk Nick out of all the negative thoughts running through his head. There was an endless list of things that could go wrong depending on if anyone was still at the precinct and whose computer they could hack into with their mediocre skills. The silence was deafening.

But then again, a car park will always seem a lot more empty when you're about to commit a felony.

"I can't _believe_ he managed to convince us to do this," said Hank albeit his voice had turned slightly lower in volume now that they had pressed the button on the elevator, the dull red light laughing at their nervousness and Nick felt an urge to jam the button one more time for good measure but thought better of it. Grimm strength and annoyance at dead things were two things that just didn't mix well, no matter the material of said dead thing. "Does he just expect us to go out of our way to help a couple of murderers who happens to be teenagers as well? I swear, Uchiha is giving me the creeps and he should have been locked up in juvy before he could count to five. Did you see that creepy smirk of his, like he knew we were going to comply just because Renard asked us to? Damn, cheeky brat …" ranted Hank and Nick nodded every so often when he found a statement that allured him as well.

To him, Sasuke had been downright scary at first, menacing red eyes beaming in the dark but as he saw how the black-haired teen interacted with Naruto - whom he had murdered five innocent people - all fear of the Uchiha had evaporated. Sasuke was someone willing to take the risks if he found the reward to be something he could actually give two fucks about.

The elevator came to halt and the two detectives stepped out of the metal box only to run into a face full of all that was Wu.

"What are you two doing here?" Drawled the Sergeant and Hank gulped. Nick himself scattered around for a hold on his own brain before he could finally push the words from his thoughts and across his lips. The sound of his own voice made the Grimm recoil in shame, all cracked and high pitched.

"Nothing much, Renard told us to come back and write a report,"

Wu raised an eyebrow, either at the blatant lie or the sound of Nick's voice which had the Grimm blushing and Hank snorting.

"You okay there buddy?" Asked Hank. It could have been common courtesy or else the mustached man was mocking him like they usually would. Banter always made things seem more normal. "Need a glass of water?" He pressed and Nick willed himself not to glare at Hank with too much force. Monroe and Rosalee had told him he could look quite menacing when he tried to.

"Okay, whatever, I heard you were on some sort of secret mission assigned to you by the Captain himself," said Wu, looking as uninterested in the conversation as ever but both detectives knew otherwise. Wu lived for this stuff and it was their bad luck it had to be Wu, of all people, who was still at the precinct despite the time. In itself, it would have been ridiculous to keep officers at the HQ after six when most of them had families to get back to, not to mention the extra money it would cost to keep officers working overtime for no reason whatsoever. Wu didn't have anyone to go back to, Hank had a list of ex-wives who would have been kept had he not had to work as hard as he did and Nick, well, Grimm said it all. Juliette not included in the package.

"It isn't anything as exciting as that," said Nick, scratching the back of his head in frustration. If only Wu knew they had been drinking herbal coffee instead of doing some kick-ass action as the Sergeant so eloquently put it last week when his biggest endeavour had been a struggle with the coffee machine. It was pitiful how little action Wu got but after his Aswang incident, Renard hadn't been one to take unnecessary chances and Nick couldn't blame him for that.

"Then what were you doing?" Asked Wu. One of his hands held a manila folder and the other was tapping impatiently against his leg despite his upright position. Wu could manage to turn anyone into a nerve wreck with his dull tone and uninterested look but sharp observations. Just as he was doing now, the cheeky bastard. "Surely you weren't drinking coffee to satisfy your insane cravings?" If Wu knew how spot on he had been, he would have gone back to sorting through his files, loudly telling both Nick and Hank that it would be far more satisfying and a great deal more adrenaline inducing than a truckload of herbal coffee.

"Actually, we did that," said Hank and finished with a laugh, more for a realistic act than anything else. Nick wasn't sure Wu would by it but the Sergeant gave a low moan of barely withheld frustration and threw up his hands in defeat, brandishing a the yellow manila folder clearly labelled _SASUKE UCHIHA_ with possibly the largest block letters Nick had ever seen.

Hank's chuckle died down and Nick was sure his eyes were bulging out of their sockets but Wu sighed and walked away with a quiet, "sure you did," and then he was gone.

"Well, I'll be damned," said Hank, scratching the back of his head and the lighthearted expression he had been wearing moments before gave way to knitted brows and a frustrated puff of lips. Nick felt the disappointment of Hank's as much as his own, an eroding rock in both of their stomachs which let the gravity of the situation settle in their minds.

Renard had only asked them to find and - forcefully - remove the APB from their system before it got too far but none of them had considered Wu's efficiency and his own way of connecting the missing dots for himself. The Sergeant would have made one hell of a detective if the attitude didn't throw off any experienced cop - his ability at judging both situations and people more accurate than the detectives was a good enough quality to remind even the Captain why Wu was at the precinct in the first place.

"Is it just me or did he get way more efficient since he came back from the whole Aswang incident?" Asked Hank. They were still standing in the hallway, trapped between elevators and glass doors and possible leads which they now had to track down without demanding Wu's attention.

Wu was swaggering away in the distance, his lithe form and blue uniform a stark contrast to the sore yellow in one hand but one thing had Nick regretting a lot of former decisions.

Nick couldn't help but _not_ note how the claws of the Aswang were still visible through lumpy scar tissue on the Sergeant's face. It was pitiful, how they had wormed their way out of explaining everything and had even insisted that Wu had been seeing things because he was too close to the truth. And somewhere, deep down in his twisting stomach, Nick knew Wu had been able to tell it had been a lie, despite it being for his own good. But if the Grimm had had the guts to stand forward like Hank had wanted him to, they wouldn't have to be in such a tight spot now. They were forced into operating behind Wu's retreating back once again.

"He has," agreed Nick, referring back to Wu's efficiency. The Sergeant barely seemed to leave the precinct since he had to give up on his friend - and according to the rumours, long time childhood crush - because of an obvious disagreement between his friend's husband, however much the tale had been twisted through the countless oral deliveries in the locker room. Rumours tended to be exaggerated but never once had Wu commented on it and neither had he felt the need to explain his situation and therefore was left alone when he most likely shouldn't. "We should fix that APB first thing," said Nick and together with Hank they solemnly trudged through the doors to the office and entered the dull room. The abandoned silence had never bothered Nick before, but the sudden turn of events with Wu had put him on edge, or rather, had put his inner Grimm on edge.

Hank didn't need to confirm what they were going to do once they entered the office and he instinctively checked the first couple of computers. Both of their computers were located smack dab in the middle of the room and Renard had specifically told them not to use their own, making it that much harder for the two detectives to find a computer that was still turned on.

There was an acute absence of electronic light.

"This ain't gonna' work, man," said Hank and to further prove his point, jabbed one of the computer keys way too hard. Nick sighed and looked up from one of the computers he had desperately been trying to kick back into life.

"What do you propose we do, then?" He asked. If Renard figured they had been unsuccessful, it would make them look so much more like fools in the presence of Sasuke and Naruto, and the Grimm wasn't so sure the Uchiha would let him live down his failure. Being a complete grade A asshole seemed to be in his nature and Nick wasn't tempted to try and best it.

Hank stilled and, for a moment, Nick wasn't sure if his friend had managed to perfect the art of the wandering brain more than he had. He knew for certain it had been less than three days ago when Hank had stubbornly teased him about the moments he slipped away and became bland in both mind and body.

"You still have that freaky photo memory thing, right?" Asked Hank out of the blue and Nick feared he knew where this was going. On more than one occasion, he had had the privilege of overseeing some of the other officers and detectives put in their username and password through the fogginess that clouded his brain every morning and now he feared Hank knew that information as well.

"No," said Nick. "No, I am not going to do something like _that_," he stressed and the Grimm was sure he sounded like a petulant child insisting on not eating his broccoli. Except this wasn't about vegetables, this was about the privacy of their fellow officers.

"Nick, I'm not aware if it has yet to reach your caffeine lacking brain, but we are already doing something illegal and I'm sure you jamming a few keys here and there won't make that much of a difference." Hank said it first, but it was something else when it was being said aloud. When there was actually the risk of being overheard by Wu or the janitor who was always kind enough to make sure the first pot of coffee was brewing before he left for some shuteye in the morning. This was different.

This was illegal.

Renard knew it, Hank knew it and Nick definitely knew it. But it still had his stomach churning.

It was much easier to pretend the Wesen he killed were just animals that needed to be put down; thieves who had stolen precious family heirlooms, murderers who had killed innocent people, hitmen who were targeting Nick but could have gone after _his_ Juliette.

Saying it out loud meant it was real - that he had to admit that he had given up everything from his past life. His job as a cop, only now using it to cover up for his Grimm activities and the carefree life he had had with Juliette which was now so riddled with Wesen and old lies it was barely discernable. In reality, it was pitiful, but clinging to the faint idea that if Nick didn't do _this_, he would still have that small part of him with him, that sense of right and wrong. Even when his brain knew it was long gone. Life was different and he had to accept it. Hank was offering a chance to do so.

"You mean hacking into someone's computer - with their typical sixteen lettered combination - instead of just finding one that's already logged in, is that what I'm hearing you say?" Asked Nick. Please don't say it, please don't say-

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying."

Nick was tempted to visibly lift his hands and block his ears, however childish it may be - but he didn't.

To hell with rules and common sense.

"We'll want to take Harris' computer, then," said Nick and all of a sudden it was so much easier to move. So much more Grimm than Nick would have liked. It was almost - almost _Mom_ like.

Nick shuddered. His Mom had not been the best to compare with but Nick would not compare himself to Renard however stealthily he worked and how cunningly he behaved. It was all a part of him. Part of being a Grimm.

And for now, he would accept that part wholly.

"That's my man," exclaimed Hank and slapped a firm hand on Nick's shoulder, causing the Grimm to lurch forward and Hank grinned. No matter how serious his partner could be from time to time, Nick would always be Nick. Swift, capable and sometimes terribly clumsy under pressure. And a lousy judge of character, but they could work with that. They had.

Hank was the first one to reach Harris' computer and he clicked on the powerbutton, waiting for the whirring machine to boot and flare to life with a flicker of electronic blue. The room was silent except the hissing computer and the occasional _pling_ whenever it got one step further in the process of finding itself. The logon screen took a whole eight minutes before Nick could even begin to remember what keys he had seen Harris press all those times he had passed the detective on his morning trip to the holy coffee machine.

"Okay, let's see," mumbled Nick and Hank didn't interrupt. It was always a wonder seeing Nick completely still and engrossed somewhere deep within his own mind, undoubtedly flickering through a collection of memories he had considered random before he needed them. The Grimm had once told him it was like a shifting through a catalogue, browsing the pages again and again while waiting for something to catch your interest. It was how Hank knew Nick had found whatever memory he had been searching for.

Fingers skimmed over the keyboard with such speed Hank could barely read what Nick was typing with a sarcastic grin on his face.

USERNAME: HARR0394

PASSWORD: IMUSTNOTTELLLIES

Hank snorted.

Harris was a fantasy fan if Hank had ever seen one - complete with striped Gryffindor tie and casual Star Trek hand sign - and somehow it didn't surprise him that the unconventional detective had chosen a password which was nothing more than a reference to his favourite book series.

It was ridiculous and so Harris.

"And we're in," announced Nick, the glare of a shining desktop screen greeting their eyes.

Hank had somehow been expecting more than the dull black that met them and Hank wouldn't have been surprised if Harris' desktop had turned out to be full of nude fairies, but the guy turned out to have a bit more sense than that. Instead, there was an endless ocean of black, only broken by icons and a few splotches of text in the middle. But no sooner did Hank's disappointment turn into a snicker.

"What?" Asked Nick, desperately searching the desktop for some clue about what had made Hank smile. When finding none, he raised an eyebrow at the mustached man and gestured for him to elaborate.

"It's quotes from the Grimm Brothers," said Hank. "Little red riding hood, Rapunzel, Hansel and Gretel, The twelve huntsmen, The two brothers …" Hank stopped when he realized Nick was still one giant question mark. "Honestly, Nick, you should think that you would actually read the stories your forefathers wrote,"

Nick's mouth made a small '_o_' but otherwise the Grimm kept quiet and turned his attention back towards the screen. Hank let his shoulders droop a little and the mustached man was tempted to knock some sense into his partner. Granted, the Grimm didn't have much spare time to read in, but even Hank had managed to squeeze in a few fairytale books after Nick's revelation of being a Grimm. Nick, however, appeared not to have had the same thought.

"Okay," muttered Nick and opened one of the icons on Harris' desktop, his momentary admittance to not having any proper knowledge of his ancestors forgotten and buried. Time to get serious and Hank felt his stomach twist in discomfort. It was one thing lying to Wu, but another thing to do something right under his nose and if the hopeless tech team did manage to find out what time the APB was deleted, Wu could be taken in for questioning and that would undoubtedly lead back to the two of them. Hank hoped Renard was as confident in his abilities to shake off such matters as Nick was sure he could take down a Mauzhertz with his bare hands. Both possible but not exactly pleasant.

But one thing Hank could be grateful for, was the fact that the board had decided there wasn't enough money to have surveillance _inside_ the office as well or they would both be in very much trouble come next morning.

"Let's see what we can dig up," said the Grimm although Hank knew he was in his own little world now, his fingers barely brushing the mouse before a few letters were put in here and there. Hank wasn't quite sure he wanted to keep looking. If he didn't know the process of deleting an APB from the system, maybe it would help him act more innocent if it came to that? Hank shook his head and kept his eyes glued to the screen. Better learn now than later.

On the other hand, Hank wasn't sure he was ready to know _how_ Nick knew what to do either. Damn, Renard for doing illegal things while keeping Nick after hours and letting him learn illegal skills with his photographic memory that he shouldn't have to put to use under any circumstances.

But to hell with it, Hank payed more attention to Nick's systematic search through the system than he usually did during the morning briefing. A shame really, but what can you expect when you get pulled in at every godforsaken hour because someone is inconveniently murdered when you are trying to sleep.

All in all, the process of pulling something as significant from the police records turned out to be rather easier than Hank had anticipated. A few clicks here and there, some check marks left unmarked and a few codes forcibly removed from their rightful ranks. Not that Hank had any idea what they meant, but he guessed they had something to do with what him and Nick were doing or the Grimm was purposefully screwing with Harris' computer for the heck of it. Wouldn't put it past the Grimm, Hank realized.

Hank knew he wouldn't be able to copy the process if he was ever put in such a situation again and he was certain he would never find the need to rely on such skills, but with his partner doing off duty things that sometimes required a scuffle - and a Captain who had probably deleted more APBs in his life than he would care to admit - it was only a matter of time before Hank could find himself in this exact situation again. Being normal was overrated and Hank would gladly sign a petition on that particular subject.

"Are we done yet or are you just fooling around?" Asked Hank, no longer able to cope with the stream of green numbers and letters on a black background. It was slightly sickening to look at and they had spent more time on Harris' computer than Hank would have liked. Not to mention Wu could waltz into the room almost any second just because the Sergeant was so damn curious about their supposedly 'secret' mission from Renard. And Hank would have none of that.

"Almost," said Nick scrunching up his nose as he pressed down on a few keys and finally pressed _shut down_. "We'd better swab that," he pointed at the keyboard and Hank took the initiative to wipe out a kleenex and provided it to a disgruntled Grimm.

"Your prints, not mine," argued Hank and Nick reluctantly took the papery cloth from his hands. The clean smell of antiseptic tainted the stale air of the office and Nick worked swiftly and efficiently, wiping the keyboard free of possible prints.

Neither of them had used Harris' computer before and it would seem awkward to ask him to borrow it tomorrow, full well knowing their own computers were working properly. Nick thrust the cloth back at Hank who raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"You pressed the power button," said Nick as if it explained everything. "Your prints, not mine," a smirk graced his lips and Hank grudgingly grabbed the cloth and wiped off his thumb print from the external power station. Trust Nick to remember which one of them had turned on the power.

"Fine," Hank took the kleenex without further grumbles and proceeded to thoroughly clean the button as to which Nick grinned in response. "Happy?"

The Grimm snorted. "Very," sarcastic and complete with eye roll but it was just the way they worked. Bantering and laughing despite the awkward heaviness of whatever sticky situation they found themselves in. And now was no exception.

"How long till Wu goes home?" Asked Hank, keeping the spent kleenex and putting it back into his pocket. Who knew what the forensics could pull from a cloth if he threw it into one of the paper bins at the station. Hank was not willing to take that chance and Nick gave a small grateful nod at the gesture. The Grimm was nervous about getting caught too.

"Considering it's already this late and if Wu thinks he's onto something, he won't go home at all," said Nick.

Hank groaned. "Then what? We can't just leave and let Renard deal with that part, can we?" It was a hopeful suggestion but both of them knew it wasn't possible. The Captain wouldn't be able to sneak in and take the files and he couldn't very well ask for them. It would be too much of a coincidence if they disappeared in his possession after having been seen releasing said suspect and taking him to a crime scene. No, not even the numbnuts at the tech team would be fooled and that said a lot on that matter.

"I know, I know," said Nick and he stumbled to find his own chair in the dark office. They hadn't bothered turning on the lights, lest it be seen by a tired Wu who would only be more interested in finding out why they were on Harris' computer instead of their own. Better let him believe they had already written their report and left. "We've been here for, what? An hour at most and during that time we haven't seen Wu get his coffee once,"

Oh, Hank knew where this was going. Nick wasn't the only coffee addict at the station despite Wu's laidback personality. He nodded and seated himself in his own chair, finding the comfort of the familiar shape oddly reassuring despite their ill intentions.

"We'll wait in the Captain's office - it should be unlocked unless Renard suddenly doesn't want me to snoop around after closing time - until we can hear the coffee machine," said Nick. It made Hank wonder just how many times before Nick had had to stay after the usual rounds to gather up some evidence of Wesen activity before it got out of hand. And Renard had apparently been helping him despite Nick not having been sure about where the man's loyalty lies, but after the indirect pat on the shoulder at the spice shop - it was clear Renard had left his office unlocked to be used as a strategic place for snooping around. A base zero, if you'd like. "If I know Wu correctly, he won't go for the first coffee machine, it's too silent and it doesn't make the best coffee - the beans are always ground a little too loose and then it lacks flavour - and while the coffee machine at the end of the hall makes it better, it makes more noise." Said the Grimm. If Hank didn't know any better, he would say Nick spent all his time studying those coffee machines.

"So if we time this correctly, we should be able to make it by hiding out in Renard's office at first, wait until Wu has passed the glass panels, proceed to the front door of the office and sneak out past the doors at the end of the hall where we will undoubtedly find a corkboard with strings and pictures. We'll grab that and the yellow folder and we're out of there, simple as that." said Nick and Hank wasn't so sure he found his chair was comforting enough. He would need a _mountain_ load of nice chairs if his brain was going to process that ridiculous plan.

"And how do you suggest we just do that? I don't know if you have noticed, but it doesn't take that long to make a cup of coffee," said Hank. It was necessary to point out the mistakes in the obvious faulty plan and the longer they discussed it, the lesser the wait for when Wu actually decided he needed his next shot of caffeine.

"For the second coffee machine, it will take exactly four minutes for Wu to prepare what he needs to make it and an additional thirty seconds for the machine to produce the coffee," Hank stared at him and Nick didn't falter for a second. Yes, his coffee obsession was borderlining insanity but it was certainly helpful now. "I know what you're thinking but it is possible for this to work,"

The Grimm waited for some sign of acknowledgement from his partner and when he got none, he pressed on. "It's simple, Hank. We go in, we go out, no one suspects anything and both the APB and the folder is out of the way and we can concentrate on how to deal with the Royal families soon to arrive in Portland, okay?" Nick knew he was being assertive and Hank had never really liked lying to Wu, but it was necessary and the Grimm needed his help. He couldn't do this without a partner - Grimm strenght and speed didn't matter when you were trying to get rid of a whole wall of information and carrying it out the front door. It never was - and never could be - a one man job.

"It doesn't matter what I say, does it?" Asked Hank. He had slumped back into his chair again and an air of defeat hung above him like a dark cloud prepared to strike lightning. "You'll do it anyway, with or without my help. And you'll get caught without my help, you know that, right?"

Hank had come to the same conclusion as Nick but that didn't mean he was anymore willing to help than before. This was still Wu, still their friend whom they had decided did not need to know the truth, for his own good and it was coming back to bite them now. But Nick would go in either way and there was nothing Hank could do to stop him. Except help him, no matter how wrong it felt on the inside. Nick had a responsibility and he wasn't about to let that get him down without a fight. And Hank wasn't about to let him. "I guess I'm in …"

Nick beamed at him. "Great," he exclaimed. "It's been one hour and twelve minutes since we walked into the building and Wu shouldn't last much longer so let's go." The Grimm sprang to his feet and his chair whirled at the sudden lack of weight. Hank followed the sound of Nick's footsteps until they stood in front of Renard's office and to Nick's great pleasure, the Captain had left it unlocked once again for his use.

"How come you never thought about why the Captain doesn't lock his door before?" Asked Hank. Might as well pass the time while they waited for Wu.

Nick shrugged but when he realized Hank wouldn't be able to see it in the dark, he spoke. "I don't know, I guess I haven't given it much thought at all. I was just grateful I had some place to hide while I waited for the office to empty," he said and in truth, he had never actually given it any thought. Looking back, the Grimm realized he probably should, especially as Hank pointed out something else.

"How could you not think about it? He keeps locks on his freaking drawers and he _never_ lets anyone listen in on one of his conversations, not to mention his absolutely ridiculous 'remember to knock' policy. You would think his paranoia would let even you realize something was amiss or he was doing it on purpose." Said Hank and Nick had never felt more stupid. Except maybe that one time with aunt Marie he never told anyone about.

Luckily, he was saved as he heard a distinct slab of shoe soles on linoleum.

"Shush," whispered Nick and he opened the door without further need for words. Hank had fallen silent and was stepping in his footsteps. The lights outside the office flared to life again and Nick almost cursed out loud when he realized the motion sensitive light would give them away if they didn't manage to get away in time. It was rather ill anticipated that the elevators and stairs were the only real way in and out of the precinct without using some escape routes which weren't exactly pleasant. And Nick didn't know if he could fit into some of the smaller shortcuts he had used back when he was still in uniform.

They just had to make it in time. No room for discussion.

Nick wasn't about to share his fears with Hank who was practically jumping out of his good skin while they crept along the glass panels, eager to avoid any suspicious glances Wu might throw in their general direction.

Nick snaked his hand up to the bronze handle and turned it ever so slowly. He could hear the clatter of utensils as Wu rummaged the cupboards for a cup and a spoon, his hands trailing over the objects in such a lazy manner it would have reflected the lax expression Nick was sure was on Wu's face at the moment.

The groan of the door had never been noisier and Nick prayed Wu hadn't heard the squeak.

With a sigh of relief, Nick noted the sound of hands still searching for a spoon small enough to fit with the cup Wu must have deemed good enough for his coffee. Step two complete.

The fluorescent glare from the hallway provided enough light for Nick to simply incline his head in the direction of the doors and Hank scooted out of the darkened office first. Nick followed not a second later, the door closing softly behind him as they tip toed over the floor and towards the next step in their plan. Both detectives were grateful for the lack of obstacles and the light which allowed them to see where they were going instead of stumbling through the murkiness of their office during nighttime.

The pair of blue doors separated easily and swung open without even the slightest indication of a straining piece of metal in need of oil. It was a nice difference not having to worry about the noise other objects could make that was a possible risk to their safety. Even when the doors continued to swing in response to the power Nick had used to spring them open, there was not any sound. At all.

Wu was getting the beans for his coffee and the crinkling plastic reminded Nick of how little time they had to complete their task.

They were saved from spending too much time walking around as Hank spotted one of the corkboards that usually held notices, had been replaced with a series of red strings, pins and pictures of various crime scenes Wu had somehow managed to allocate without anyone's attention. The Sergeant was too smart for the Grimm's liking - mainly because they weren't on the same side but they weren't on opposite sides either. It was complicated and Nick was the one who had made it that way.

The connections drawn with the strings were elaborate and Nick blanched at how close some of the information was to the actual truth. Little post-its had been slapped onto the corkboard and notes of different nature were scribbled with so many words Nick had trouble reading any of it.

Most of all, the information Wu had put together was huge and too close for comfort. If only he had known about Wesen and the connection to the last case, Wu might have been in an even better position than they were now, despite Renard's German informants and Royal schemes.

"We're going to have to take all of it, aren't we?" Asked Hank and Nick didn't feel the need to answer. Instead, he started grabbing the notes, revealing the spotted brown cork beneath the slips of blue, pink and yellow paper. Hank took his cue and began as well, removing photos and strings and pins. It was a shame to see such good work go to waste but at least they weren't tearing it up - yet. No doubt Renard would want it destroyed but for now, the two detectives could appreciate the work Wu had put into his offroad investigation.

It didn't take too long removing the evidence of something other than notices having ever been pinned to the board and Hank had an armful of disturbingly coloured photos from the crime scenes they had been working at for the last two days. From the first one in the alley, to the carpark and even to the incident at the hiking trail. Names and photos of witnesses had been scrawled underneath along with age, occupation and address. It was good police work and Nick was glad they hadn't burned it yet. Even if Renard wanted to do so, Nick was sure he could convince the Captain not to. If they were going to continue the investigation off records, this would spare them a good deal of trouble.

Nick carried an armload of information as well, the small sticky notes and various arcs of A4 paper with timelines and statements. The only thing left to find was the yellow manila folder with all of Sasuke's information.

It could have been a coincidence that Wu had had the file on him when they met in the hallway but experience told both detectives that Wu suspected something of the teen. Whether that be a crime or simply information, they didn't know. They wouldn't know. Not when they had succeeded in removing all data on the case.

"There," whispered Hank but his voice spoke volumes in the silence of their actions.

Across a table of blank notes and sharpened pencils lay the manila folder in all its yellow glory and large block letters. That one last thing they needed before they could vanish and leave Wu to wonder who, what and how.

"I'll get it," said Nick. He wasn't carrying as much as Hank and the mustached man felt bad enough without taking the last scrap of gathered material from their friend.

The case of Sasuke Uchiha had been so fresh they wouldn't have had the chance to type it in and make digital copies yet, resulting in one folder with all the information. With that gone, the black-haired teen would be off the grid for good. No APB, no wayward investigations that might come across his name because of some silly coincidence like the size of his shoes. But Wu had found the connection and so could others, it was only a matter of time.

Time that they didn't have.

Time that was now officially thirty seconds as the coffee machine spluttered to life and poured steaming coffee into Wu's cup. Time was ticking and both detectives knew it albeit Hank couldn't hear the grains of the universe slosh back into the hourglass.

For someone who was as organized as Wu, it seemed almost impossible that he should deliberately have placed the yellow folder so far away from the rest of his information and the notes on the corkboard but now was not the time. A folder was a folder and this was the one they needed.

The manila felt rough under his hand and Nick swirled around so fast he wasn't even sure his body had executed the command his brain had sent. "We need to go," he said. "Now," and Hank knew time was almost up. The water of the coffee machine was wheezing as it always did when it tried to cram the last drop of coffee from its inner machinery.

Previous vigilance was abandoned and the blue doors swung open with so much raw power they hit the walls with a _bang_. "The stairs," mumbled Nick, only loud enough for Hank to hear even though the noise of the doors would have brought a hurried Wu quicker than first anticipated. Noise attracts danger but they couldn't afford to be cautious now, not now when they were so close to getting away.

Without waiting for a sign from Hank that he had indeed understood the order albeit rushed and huffed in the heat of the pickle they had gotten themselves into, Nick darted for the stairs. They were further away but as the Grimm passed the elevators, he clicked the button. If only to distract Wu for a moment, it was better than nothing.

Hank groaned beside him, the torn achilles tendon flaring to life and the mustached man limped while running. It had healed, they knew that, but Hank couldn't shake the feeling as much as the actual injury. Besides, he didn't favour sprinting as a joyful pastime and that wasn't about to change no matter how many suspects they had chased through an endless sea of gardens and mountains of scaled walls. It just wasn't all that attractive though Hank felt an urgent need to start training more, if only to avoid sore muscles in the morning.

Behind them, shattering porcelain screeched along a forgotten symphony of too hot coffee and running feet. Wu had sensed something was wrong and he wasn't a cop for nothing even though Nick would give anything for the Sergeant to abandon his pursuit.

The stairs edged ever so slowly closer and Wu had yet to round the corner. Before the Sergeant could ever have the chance to see who had run off with his research and notes, the two detectives bolted for the stairs, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste to get away.

Hank was tempted to drop everything in his arms, every instinct telling him to just let go and get out of there but the mustached man knew he couldn't do that. He was more scared of Renard than he was of a pissed off Wu who would have no clue about the ongoing situation. A situation which required two detectives to mess around with sensitive information and cover up their own tracks as well as a murderers. Two murderers actually, if he had been told correctly that Sasuke had also 'offed' a few people for good measure. It was downright terrifying, actually, and Hank had no idea why he put up with it or why he went along with such a crazy plan to help them out in the first place.

He didn't usually stick his neck out for people he didn't know, and even then, it had to be for a very good reason. This was not one of those reasons.

Nick and Hank clambered down the stairs with such large strides Hank surprised himself. He wasn't the tallest man around, he knew that, but if anyone thought about who had stolen Wu's midnight work, they definitely wouldn't suspect him. He normally didn't have such long strides no matter the tight spot, but having Nick beside him, Hank realized, helped him achieve a lot more than he would have under different circumstances. Under _legal _circumstances. But he understood. He had been given a chance to help people who had had no choice in their own decisions of kill or be killed. Who acted on instincts rather than common sense and he could give them a second chance despite their previous actions. It was a horrible thing to think and it had taken Hank some time himself to realize the gravity of the things they did. It was probably why Nick never complained about what he had to do. And it was why Hank wouldn't complain either, no matter how much his legs would kill him in the morning.

They burst from the emergency staircase and Hank paused for a short moment.

The clear night sky had never been more beautiful.

* * *

><p>The moment Wu heard the doors slam, his mind knew something was wrong. He felt it, deep, twisting and uncomfortable in his gut but he ignored it in favour for the smell of fresh made coffee.<p>

He was about to taste the first sip when his brain finally caught up.

The light to the office had been turned off and while the light in the hallway hadn't been triggered to his knowledge, it was possible both Nick and Hank had managed to find the elevator without any light. It wouldn't be the first time the sensors had remained stubborn in choosing who they would shine for. So if Nick and Hank had closed up for the night and finished their report, who could still be left?

The janitor wasn't supposed to be in this part of the building yet and Wu doubted old Mr Nielsen had the strength to push the doors open with so much force.

Wu dropped his cup before he even realized he had done so, his feet moving on their own accord as he found himself storming down the corridor.

Footsteps. Hasty, loud and scrambling for a hold on the linoleum floor. If Wu hadn't heard the distinct squeak of a shoe, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have passed it off as a wild animal. But then again, what wild animal would manage to use either the stairs or the elevator only to find itself lost in a police precinct. No, this definitely required some more investigation and Wu was sure it was human footsteps he could hear so loud and so clear in the silence of the police station as he ran to catch up.

The red light from the elevator switched to green as the doors slid open in front of the huffing Sergeant but Wu knew better. Whoever was running would have had no time to use the elevator if their apparent rush from the doors was any indication of their hurry. Somebody had waited for him to leave his cork board in search of coffee and he had done exactly as they had anticipated.

Stupid Wu. Stupid him for leaving behind everything he had spent the last five hours working on nonstop. Stupid thieves for having the guts to actually enter a police station and nick evidence from right under his nose.

A slip of blue paper with familiar scrawling on the floor, left in the thieves' wake, confirmed Wu's fears. They _had_ wanted to steal his work and he was letting them get away with it the longer he stood in front of the elevators, waiting, thinking.

Not on his watch they don't.

Wu turned on his heels, the blue note leading a trail down the corridor and towards the emergency stairs. Whoever it was knew their way around or had been taken into custody way too many times to be an actual thief. No one would be stupid enough to let themselves be caught and _then_ try to steal from a Sergeant. Not in real life. Not now.

Gritting his teeth and for once letting his mask of indifference drop from his face, he schooled his expression into one of intense concentration as he sprinted down the deserted hallways, turned the corner and came to a stop in front of the stairs.

Someone was nearing the bottom, the metallic _click, click_ against hollow steps made the sound so much more real than Wu was prepared for. Someone was stealing _his_ work. Which meant he had been too close to the truth for comfort and that this was a breakthrough of epic proportions. Someone was trying to silence him and someone with answers were at the bottom of the stairs this very moment.

Despite the lights at the staircase, the winding steps made it impossible for anyone to get a clear look at the ground, not to mention distinguishing people from pebbles would be a feat in itself which left Wu with one other option. To go down there no matter who he might face.

Part of him wished it to be something exciting. A hit man or high class French burglar reminiscent of the Pink Panther but the reality would always be less of a fairytale, Wu knew. No harm in dreaming, though, and he set off from the top of the staircase, body soaring over the first few steps as he barely made any sound. He was lighter than most other officers, preferring speed instead of brawn and for once that decision proved to be useful.

There was no metallic sound of his feet hitting the steps and that served to prove one more thing. The burglars weren't as light as he was which meant more muscle to deal with, and the prospect of getting into a hand to hand fight. One could only hope they didn't carry a gun or things could get difficult.

Wu's breath turned chilly as he reached the bottom of the winding staircase. The door had been left open in their hasty escape and the result was a cold wind streaming in through the gaping hole to the outside world. There weren't any people inside the circle of light provided from the nearest lamp-posts but a car was whirring to life on the other side of the street, red taillights visible but the rest of the car was shrouded in darkness, matching the winter air and the naked trees along the road.

Oh no they didn't.

For once, Wu hadn't managed to find a parking spot close enough for him to throw a stone and now that came to be a twist of fate.

Racing towards his red Fiat Panda, Wu nearly dropped his keys in his efforts of tearing the door open. The engine groaned as it powered up and Wu put the car in reverse before the other car could disappear completely further down the road. Hard to spot, yes, impossible?

Not for Wu.

The machine roared in protest as Wu snuck closer to the other car, following the red lights that so blatantly mocked the Sergeant. Stealth would be a much better companion than direct approach and Wu deemed - by their slow crawling - that they had yet to realize he was tailing them.

If only he had a bit more light. The night of Portland was too dark to make out the two silhouettes in the car clearly, resulting in Wu squinting his eyes closer together to try and sneak a look at the two burglars.

They had chucked the various papers and photos to the back seat but Wu could recognize the pattern he used to solve cases - or at least help the detectives - with. The red string was something not many used, deeming it old fashioned and rather wanting to do a mind map on the computer than in hand and now Wu was pretty sure he would start doing that as well. Less chance of someone throwing it into their car and making their way with it while he had no obvious copy except his poor brain. Sometimes, he really wished he had Nick's photographic memory, but alas, no such luck for the Drawling Sergeant.

Further down the road, the car came to a halt at a red light. They were obviously not in such a hurry that they would risk bringing themselves to attention by breaking traffic rules and just cutting clean of the red lights they would surely meet on their path back to whatever secret bat cave they were hiding at.

Wu rubbed his hands against the steering wheel in pure glee. This was so much better than doing everything on paper. To him, it didn't matter if it turned out to be Renard and an Aswang walking out of that car together once they arrived at their destined place, it was a big enough mystery for Wu to abandon all previous fear for the sake of a good adrenaline rush. Caffeine not included.

The car in front of him turned to the right and Wu followed at a casual distance. So far, it didn't seem like they were trying to make their way out of Portland but rather turned every so often that Wu was nearly convinced they were venturing _further_ into the poisoned and brick walled womb that was Portland.

The car stopped in front of a shop. Small, inconspicuous and rather nice looking.

Wu signaled to park as well and pulled into a parking spot a good few feet away from the other car. Turning off the engine, the light that lit up the front seat died down and Wu was left in all consuming darkness, matching the frosty night air outside. Even the lamp-post to his right couldn't bring light into his red Panda as he waited with bated breath for the thieves to step out of the car and reveal themselves to him. He wasn't exactly what you would call a good artist but maybe he could ask Nick to draw them if he memorized them enough. No risk using cameras, the glow from his cell phone would give him away the moment he took it from his pocket and he wasn't about to bring forth the wrath of two possible hit men.

God, that would be so exciting. And dangerous.

Please let them be hit men.

Wu let his jaw drop, open and fly attracting but what he saw was not what he had expected. He had anticipated big ugly brutes, perhaps one with a beard and the other a mustache and complete with an all brawn no brain image. But while one of them had a mustache, it didn't make any sense. Had he followed the wrong car?

Why was it Nick and Hank getting out of the car, his yellow manila folder clasped in the mustached man's hand, instead of his burglars and why did they give each other congratulating claps on each others backs as if they had just successfully made a big bust of drugs and had arrested a warlord. They hadn't done that, far from it.

They had stolen from _him_. From their so called friend, and to do what? Protect someone who was responsible for at least five murders and one potential?

No, it was a ruse, it had to be. They were playing a prank and he had fallen for it. It was just for a good laugh, right?

Wu wasn't so sure anymore. There was no call with a _fooled ya'_ from neither Nick nor Hank and under the light of the lamp-posts, the two of them looked genuinely relieved they hadn't been caught in the act.

At least to their knowledge.

The door to the shop opened and warm light streamed out of the building. A woman stood in the doorway, a happy smile on her face as she greeted the two like old friends. With a start, Wu realized they probably were to some extent. Behind the charming woman stood another man, bearded, tall and plaid wearing and Wu knew who they were.

It was the woman and the man he had met at the station earlier and although he hadn't been able to place the man before, he could now. The 'little red riding hood' case with the child napper where Nick had accused the same man of abducting the girl even though Nick was later proven wrong. And now they were shaking and exchanging hugs and it put Wu more on edge than if it had been hit men associating with them. With _them_. Not his friends. Not Nick and Hank.

Somewhere, behind the mass of four hugging bodies exchanging laughing greetings and handshakes and joyous smiles, another shape loomed in the warm glow of light. Stepping forward was a young man, a teenager at most and with a laugh he joined the others and all of a sudden it felt like they were having one huge party in that single doorway and Wu hadn't been invited. It made him feel sick to his stomach and he wished he had never left the warmth or smell of fresh coffee from the precinct. It hadn't been worth any adrenaline rush from when his mind had worked in overdrive with wild imagination.

But what shook Wu from his hold on the Panda's steering wheel was the person that followed the first teen.

Scowl firmly set in place and eyes of steel scanned the area around the shop and for one eerie moment Wu almost locked eyes with the black-haired teen before he managed to duck down and hide, hands still firmly clasped to the wheel albeit they were shaking too much to hold onto it properly. All strength had left him when he had seen the second teen.

Sasuke Uchiha.

The one common denominator in the cases and the only person who could be tied to the different crime scenes. The bloody shoe print left behind in the alley, the witness statement from the parking lot and the victim from the hiking trail who had mentioned a blonde teen.

Two teens who kept popping up no matter how small the clue or how odd the connection. They were always there. And now they were here. In a spice shop with a cleared suspect from an old case, his obvious girlfriend, and two detectives who Wu thought he had actually known as friends. The blonde was hugging the rest of the cheering crew while the Uchiha hung back, face still set in a scowl but he shook hands and gave grateful nods every now and then. Not a people's person but a person of interest. And Hank and Nick were associating with them.

Fuck.

His curiosity had definitely piqued and he found himself bound to the seat of his car, unable to move even his hands as the group of six people moved inside, laughter and chatter carrying through the frosty air and into Wu's car.

He was definitely counting this as a stakeout when he had to write his next paycheck.


	8. He Started Weeping, Turning Growls

**Short chapter, but necessary...**

* * *

><p>Then He Started Weeping, Turning Growls Into Howls<p>

Chapter VII

"We did it!" Exclaimed Hank as he saw Rosalee in the doorway. Her brows had been knitted in a sign of strained nervousness and when she registered the words that had left the mustached man's mouth, her face broke into a smile.

"Really?" She asked but even Nick could hear the lightness that entered her voice and Rosalee exhaled, negative emotions leaving her body as the good news settled in. Monroe came up behind the Fuchsbau and he grinned as he saw the triumphant grin on Nick's face. The Grimm was tired but right now, the feeling of victory was too overwhelming and his body didn't need much sleep anyway. And it was not like Juliette was expecting him home for a good deal of the night. She understood his responsibilities and never questioned him unless she could see it troubled him deeply. But for now, she wouldn't worry. She knew he was okay.

"Really," echoed Nick and he found himself drawn into a hug by a laughing Fuchsbau and beside him, Hank was drawn into a similar hug by the Blutbad.

"Way to go!" Said Monroe and Hank was nearly lifted off the ground in a strong hug, bones cracking under the pressure and with a grin he patted the bearded man on his arm.

"Can't breathe," he mumbled as he kept slapping Monroe's arm with his free hand - the other holding the yellow manila folder - and the Blutbad put him down with a grin and a pat on the shoulder. The circle proceeded and Monroe hugged Nick in relief and Rosalee gripped Hank strongly despite her smaller size. She had obviously been as worried as they had felt but now that she knew they were all okay, it was easier for her to relax and the Fuchsbau nearly squeezed the life out of him. Wesen strength was a force to be reckoned with, especially if it was a worried mother hen.

"How did it go?" A cheery voice from inside of the shop drifted out like a wind and Nick knew it was Naruto. A wide grin stood out in stark contrast to the cool night and for some reason, perhaps his blonde hair, was enough to create a warmth stronger than the one from the shop.

"The APB won't be a problem anymore," was all Nick said and - if possible - Naruto smiled wider. As if he had been part of their little group for as long as Hank, the blonde gladly threw his arms around Rosalee and they twirled on the doorstep, a giggle shared between them before Naruto bounced on and hugged Monroe.

"Hey there buddy," said Monroe as the blonde hugged him with vigour and Nick wasn't sure he saw correctly when he saw Naruto actually _nudge_ the Blutbad with his head. The Grimm chalked it up to fox behavior and left it at that.

Not long after, Sasuke appeared, apparently not comfortable with leaving Naruto alone in their presence for too long. The Uchiha said nothing but gave them a curt nod, grateful, and he proceeded to shake hands with the four others he didn't know as well as his boyfriend.

In the end, they ended up standing on the doorstep, laughing at the absurdity of it all and they chuckled as Naruto circled around a slightly uncomfortable Sasuke who drew the blonde into a hug. Naruto downright _purred_ into the Uchiha's chest and nudged the black-haired teen with his head, a nest of forest blonde hair tickling the Sasuke's nose.

"Let's move inside and play a game or something," the voice was muffled but undoubtedly Naruto from within the purr and warmth of Sasuke's embrace.

"I second that," said Hank and brandished the folder in front of the black-haired teen who blinked in surprise. The block letters caught all of their attention except Naruto who still hugging the black-haired teen's midriff. Rosalee cocked her head and the group ventured inside, Sasuke dragging the blonde along.

The cold from the outside was abruptly cut off as Sasuke closed the door, coming in last and pushing Naruto in front of him so he could close the gate to the winter world outside. Naruto shook himself and, like a dog, tousled his hair, spraying tiny droplets of moisture. Hank laughingly put up his hands to shield himself from the oncoming onslaught of cold wetness.

"Easy there foxy, no need to piss the whole room," said Hank and a roar of laughter came from Monroe who obviously got the joke better than others. Which reminded Nick, that Monroe probably _did _get the joke better seeing as how he had peed in his garden the first time Nick had seen the Blutbad.

Regardless of the joke or maybe even because of the nickname, Sasuke took a step closer and effectively killed the mood with his monotone voice cutting through the remaining chuckles like a knife through soft butter.

"What's in the folder?" He asked and Naruto punched him in the side, a mumbled _killjoy_ filling the silence after Sasuke's question. The Uchiha stuck out his hand when it became clear neither Hank nor Nick was willing to tell. He just didn't realize they didn't know either.

Hank gave up the folder, plopping it into the black-haired teen's waiting hand and he saw Sasuke flip through it's contents with ease. "I honestly don't know," admitted Nick before Sasuke could say anything about whatever was written in Wu's collaborated knowledge. Hopefully something incriminating, if only to spite the teen for the fun of it. "It's everything Wu managed to find on you and maybe even some of his wild theories on how you could be connected with the mur- with Naruto's case."

Sasuke's glare spoke volumes at the Grimm. Do not speak of Naruto's past sins because that is what they were. In the past, and if the Uchiha had anything to say in that matter, it would stay that way.

"I don't think so," said Sasuke and Hank raised an eyebrow as the Uchiha tossed the folder back to the mustached man.

"What do you mean you don't think so?" Asked Hank and Nick tore the file from his grip before he could argue and flipped it open to the first page.

'Busty Asian Beauties' had never looked more awkward or misplaced than it had then and Nick nearly choked on his own saliva. Wu would never read stuff like this at the precinct and he sure as hell wouldn't place it in another person's official file.

"Is some kind of twisted western humour?" Asked Sasuke, clearly waiting for one of them to explain the situation and a very sick joke. Hank hung back as well as he caught a glimpse of the cover and Nick suspected the mustached man already knew what the magazine contained without needing a closer look.

"What is it?" Asked Monroe and he struggled to get past a fleeing Hank to see what had set the man's face aflame in embarrassment. The Blutbad audibly gulped and - wisely - choose to remain silent as Rosalee slunk closer and closer to an unsuspecting Nick.

"Ew! Guys what are you doing with that filthy stuff!" She cried and jabbed Nick to gain his attention. "Get that porn out of my store right now or I swear I will burn it and dance on the ashes. You are corrupting my herbs just by thinking about that front page girl!" So Rosalee had taken enough of a look to think about the cover girl herself. Clever, Nick had to admit, but not what he had been expecting from the Fuchsbau.

Naruto paled at the mere mention of 'porn' and with a tug on Sasuke's sleeve, he brought the teen's attention back on him and with a whisper he spoke, but Nick caught it. "It's not Icha Icha, right? I swear, if Kakashi followed you and it's a joke …" Naruto didn't finish his sentence but by the smirk that followed on Sasuke's face and the silent threat left hanging in the air, Nick knew the blonde meant business with this shady Kakashi character. Albeit it made the Grimm start to wonder if Sasuke truly had come alone. Surely the others would have revealed themselves at the warehouse if they had been there, or perhaps maybe not? The Uchiha could certainly fool a couple of good actors and the black-haired teen knew it.

But Sasuke shook his head and Naruto let out a pleased noise, a cross between a snort of amusement and a sigh of relief. Sasuke obviously found it cute as he dared to peck Naruto's cheek shortly after and Nick removed his attention from the couple and back to the problem on hand. Getting rid of porn had never been a bigger problem than now.

With a delicate hand, the Grimm removed the offending stack of papers and pictures and deposited of it on Rosalee's front desk, the cash and register making it look as though he was trying to buy the porn. "Let's just leave it here for now, okay? You can burn it later if you want," he directed the last part at Rosalee who scoffed in return and proved herself capable of a very vicious glare when her gaze locked onto the colourful magazine.

"So," Naruto drew out the word for so long it was hard to realize he was even talking until he clapped his hands and the attention turned to him. "Anyone up for a game of something or whatever? We still have to celebrate, right?" A grin and several smiles greeted him, while Rosalee took it upon herself to guide them back into the storage room where Naruto had been operated. It looked so different from before that Nick had to stop and carefully think that this _was_ the same room as the one he had left a few hours before.

No bloody towels, no smell of burning flesh or antiseptic, and the counter had been cleared of burners, catnip incense and various pots and jars with foul smelling herbs and ointments.

The room was actually cozy. Red candles provided a soft hue of golden light around the shelves and frames of the windows and a pleasant smell of coffee wafted vaguely from somewhere in the back. The Fuchsbau had had the foresight to go out and buy some coffee before the two detectives returned and Nick felt forever grateful. He wasn't sure he could survive on herbal coffee again.

"What are we gonna' play?" It was Naruto who asked and he was already heading towards a pair of extra puffy stools which Rosalee had managed to find. Seems like she had anticipated some sort of party as well.

Sasuke flanked the blonde on one side - having already grabbed a stool for himself - but he remained silent, resting his head on interlocked fingers and a snarky smile on his lips. The thoughts running through the Uchiha's head and the reaction to the word 'play' from Naruto's mouth was something the Grimm was not interested in knowing. Ever. Not even under torture.

Wisely, he choose to sit at one end of the table with Naruto to his left and Rosalee to the right. Hank took the other end of the table.

Naruto sneaked a glance and a grin at Monroe who took a seat opposite of the blonde teen. "How about werewolf?" He suggested and the Blutbad nearly fell backwards off his stool. Naruto started laughing, clutching his stomach and without even realizing it, Nick was chuckling as well.

"That is so not funny!" Exclaimed Monroe but the snickers around the table did nothing to dull the Blutbad's blush and faint growl. "I feel like I'm being used …" The laughs around the table grew louder in volume and Monroe gave a half amused snort as well. Okay, so maybe it had been a little funny.

"Okay, okay, we won't play werewolf," said Naruto when he finally managed to catch his breath after the rather lengthy laugh and Nick was sure the blonde would live a long life if he was used to laughing so much every day.

Considering he was dating the Uchiha, it was probably a rare occasion.

"How about …" Naruto was thinking hard and the creases on his forehead gave away his fake concentration and after a few seconds of 'hard thinking' the blond opened his eyes. "How about Once Upon A Time?" He asked and albeit he was met with complete silence around the table, it was clear he was serious about his suggestion. When no one contradicted or acknowledged, he turned to Sasuke.

"Did you bring the cards?" He cocked his head to one side, looking all the more fox than human and Nick could almost imagine a pair of golden ears on top of of the blonde's locks.

Either from somewhere within the black-haired teen's clothing or many hidden pockets, (honestly, where did he keep all of his things?) Sasuke pulled out a neat looking scroll; wooden handles with a red string to match, and laid it in front of Naruto. The blonde instantly brightened and opened up the scroll until it took up half the table.

Intricate symbols, squiggles and scrawls of what must have been words in some twisted form, covered the parchment-like paper and Naruto bit his thumb. One sharp canine stood out, bulging from his upper lip and Nick blanched. How had he not noticed it before?

But as soon as the tooth had appeared, it shrunk back to a normal human size when Naruto pricked open his thumb and a small drop of blood welled out. Almost lazily, he planted his bleeding thumb on the paper and drew a spiral which proceeded to glow an electric blue before it disappeared altogether and was overtaken by a tiny burst of smoke.

It was a strange thought to realize the smoke was clearly emitted from the scroll.

Nick was tempted to cry out witchcraft or voodoo but it looked nothing like he had ever seen before. The smoke dissipated and instead of the bloody spiral there was a pack of cards clearly labelled _Once Upon A Time_ in fancy letters, old and ancient.

Monroe and Hank had open mouths and their eyes were wide, not with fear, but curiosity and Nick felt a question bubble in his throat. His brain could barely process what he had witnessed.

Blood, paper, blue, smoke, cards. It seemed impossible but the normality of the act and the casual way Naruto tied up the scroll and handed it back to Sasuke indicated they had done it too many times before to even think of finding the whole procedure intriguing.

"How did you do that?" Asked Rosalee and Nick had his question taken from him before he could even think of asking. Trust the Fuchsbau to sniff out everything on the others' minds before they even had time to compose themselves.

"It's just chakra," said Naruto as if it was the most obvious answer and that they should already know. Luckily - and Nick hated to admit it - Sasuke came to their rescue.

"Dobe," he said. "They have probably never met a Shinobi before, of course they wouldn't know what chakra is," and he gave Naruto an affectionate glare and a perfectly matching scowl. But an explanation never followed.

"Care to explain what chakra is?" Asked Monroe but the hope was evident in his voice. He was dying to know and so were the others.

"Sorry," said Naruto, picking up where Sasuke left. "Call it a tradesmen secret." And just like that, the discussion had ended before it had even begun.

Naruto continued to explain the rules of the game - you drew a few cards with words or events on them and you could interrupt the storyteller whenever one of your words matched the one that was spoken and then you continued the story until you had no more cards and you could play your _happily ever after _card - and in general, the mood became lighter and the easy bantering returned while Naruto shuffled and handed out the cards. The question and possibilities of chakra remained in their knowledge but they knew it was a sealed deal and it was no excuse to ruin the evening, so it was quickly forgotten after with a few good laughs.

"I interrupt," said Rosalee and slammed down a card on the tabletop, a stupidly zealous smile on her face. "It wasn't actually a frog, it was a mighty prince on his white steed, complete with shining armour." She giggled like a schoolgirl and looked at Monroe all the while she spoke. The Blutbad blushed but grinned just as stupidly back as the Blutbad. Okay, maybe they were just a tiny bit drunk and in a better mood than they had been for ages but all the same, the story continued. "The prince was walking down a road where he met an old man-" another card hit the table and Naruto yelped a _no fair_ as he saw a card with an old gnarly man and a walking stick. "Once they reached each other, the old man looked at the prince and said, 'you must go to the lake' and-"

"Got ya'!" exclaimed Hank and put another card on top of Rosalee's. _Lake_, it read.

"The prince said farewell to the old man and rode on to the lake where he met a sea monster and then-" Hank was interrupted as Monroe slid a card onto the pile. _Monster_. Hank threw his cards down in defeat, his obnoxious large number of penalties ensuring he wouldn't get rid of his cards first thing. The mustached man hung his head in defeat while the others chortled at his wasted efforts.

With small smile so unbefitting the winner of the game, Monroe played his _happily ever after_ card and proclaimed loudly. "Then Loch Ness came in and ate Nick. The end."

Nick nearly flew from his chair in a wild scramble to get a hold of the last card while the others burst out laughing, even Sasuke. "That can't be what it says!" Said Nick until he could finally reach the card. But it did say exactly that.

"Okay, who cheated and wrote me into this?" Asked the Grimm and felt his cheeks heat up. Naruto was laughing louder than the rest, gasping for air as tears rolled down his cheeks in fat drops. "You!" And suddenly Nick was laughing as loud as the rest of them. He had no idea how Naruto had done it, they had seen him shuffle and give the cards but he wouldn't have had time to write anything specific on the blank cards.

"Shinobi trick," cried Naruto in between breaths and this time the blonde rolled off the stool and in a desperate wobble, he aimed for the couch and landed halfway on the armrest.

"I think that's enough," said Rosalee as breathlessly as the others felt, the Fuchsbau wiping a stray drop of salty water from her tear duct. "Boys, you two need to get some proper rest before tomorrow. We can worry then,"

And even as she said it, the cozy atmosphere vanished just a bit. A missing folder was something that would require Renard and for now, they had had their fun and games, but tomorrow reality would catch up to them. It always would and they knew it, but it didn't stop the Fuchsbau from feeling guilty as she looked at Naruto's dejected face; lower lip stuck out in a pout and blue eyes stretched as wide as eyelids would allow. Rosalee felt the need to hug the blonde but Sasuke was quicker, leaving his red stool behind as fell down into the lumpy sofa and circled his arms around Naruto's waist, dragging the blonde with him.

"I'll make sure he gets some sleep," said the black-haired teen and Naruto purred even louder than he had outside. Rosalee wondered if she could purr too but pushed the thought far back in her own mind.

She left the two boys cuddling on the couch and ushered the rest of them out of the storage room. By the time Hank and Nick had composed themselves enough to follow Monroe, the blonde was fast asleep and Sasuke's eyelids were drooping in exhaustion. Rosalee knew it was a privilege to see both of them so calm in a new and foreign environment. Closing the door behind the still chuckling men, she smiled as softly as she had when Monroe had proposed. Happiness was something that seemed to come easy, if only for a few seconds these days, and she wasn't about to let that go.

"Be quiet," she whispered and guided the three men to the front door. Nick and Hank exited first, arms loosely thrown over each others' shoulders as they sang some form of a drinking song involving cops and guns.

"Are we going to lock it up or leave it open?" Asked Monroe. He had grabbed his coat from the stand but the cold of Portland was freezing, even for a bearded Blutbad and he was shivering down to the roots of his hair. Rosalee stopped, key in hand, but thought better of it.

"The lights are on in the storage room and the boys are going to be sleeping but those two will hear if someone tries to break in. I think we can risk leaving it open for now and I don't want them to think they are prisoners," said Rosalee, putting her keys back into her bag. Her own coat was not layered enough to properly keep out the cold and the walk to Monroe's Beetle was short and brisk.

"See you guys!" Yelled Nick as he and Hank staggered over to their car. There was no doubt Nick was the one going to drive since his body kept rejecting the alcohol or it simply burned the bad liquid before the effects could properly set in. The Grimm was drunk on a good mood and that couldn't be seen in an alcohol test.

Hank, on the other hand, was a different case and the man merely waved a hand as he tried to keep standing upright. A beer or ten too many, but who was Rosalee to stop the fun.

Monroe was struggling with the car keys and a bit further down the road, the Fuchsbau could hear Nick do the same, Hank complaining idly by his other side.

"Come on, man, you're slow," groaned the mustached man and Nick grinned in response. His hands were freezing just from the short thirty second walk from the shop to the car and the keys were too cold to keep a proper hold.

"I'm on it, I'm on it," protested the Grimm and Hank gave up watching him work on the keys and turned his head.

"Hey, dude, isn't that Wu's car?" Asked Hank.

Nick dropped the keys and - oh, the irony - the car blipped open. Okay, so maybe he could just have pressed the button, but honestly, Hank's keys were so battered the Grimm couldn't make out what button was supposed to do what.

"Yeah, right," said Nick but when he looked up, a glaring red Fiat Panda was staring right at his face. There was no light from the front seat and all in all, the car looked relatively abandoned."What the hell?"

Not even a second later, a distressed howl came from the shop, followed by a crash of shattering glass. Rosalee and Monroe turned from their Beetle, startled by the noise and both Wesen darted out of the cramped car. Rosalee was the first one to voice their fears and Hank sobered up immediately.

"The boys!"

* * *

><p>Everything felt a bit colder when Wu stepped out of his car. Maybe because he had just seen two of his friends associate with possible suspects and proceed to have a damn <em>party<em> with them. They had laughed and joked and played games and gotten drunk. Well, Hank had gotten drunk. Nick had stuck to his coffee which really didn't surprise the Sergeant at all.

They had drawn the blinds down but a few cracks had allowed Wu to look through and see what had been going on. And it wasn't pretty. It was awful, actually and Wu knew something was wrong. The casual banter between Nick and Hank had caused the others in the room to laugh just as much when the two suspects would suddenly end up brawling on the floor and the blonde ended up crying from laughter because the black-haired teen had ended up tickling the other teen in retaliation.

It was a loving scene, but one Wu couldn't fathom how it came to be. So he waited.

The Sergeant hadn't had the time to get his jacket before pursuing his friends from the precinct and then follow them in a very careful car chase which lacked both speed and adrenaline rush and now he was paying the price. But he wasn't about to move.

This required extra careful investigation and by the way the woman was leading the other men away from what Wu supposed was a storage room, they were getting ready to leave for the night. Slinking away, Wu hid in the shadows.

They bantered and discussed about whether or not to lock up while Hank and Nick sang so out of tune Wu was tempted to break his cover to tell them to shut up. But he didn't.

He watched as the retreating backs of the four people walked over to their cars and Wu took his chance. All of them were fumbling with their keys, backs turned away from the front door and the Sergeant slipped inside. The handle was easy to turn, noiseless and the soft _ding_ from the bell above Wu's head made no sound at all as he eased the door open, barely wide enough for him to slip through unless he sucked in his stomach.

The shop was a stark contrast to the cold, dark night and instead, Wu felt at ease the moment his foot stepped over the threshold. Warm, illuminating and cozy all at the same time and if Wu had come under different circumstances, the snug little shop filled with herbs and spices and so many smells it made his mouth water, he would have enjoyed it.

For some reason, the shop actually _was_ familiar and Wu was reminded of the case where a shop owner had been murdered because he sold drugs on the side. It all made a little more sense now, even though it was a disturbing thought to think that the smiling woman would actually deal drugs but if Wu remembered correctly, she was the dead guy's sister. And such things tended to run in the family albeit Wu couldn't see any obvious signs of illegal affairs.

One trashcan caught his attention.

Dried blood stuck to a couple of towels and a pair of discarded pliers looked as though they had been ravaging through the anatomy of the human body. Clear indication of _something_ illegal, whatever it was. Wu doubted it was possible to get such massive injuries while mixing herbs and the lady hadn't walked with a limp and neither had she cradled her arm. Hank and Nick hadn't been injured either, not recently, to his knowledge - even though how limited it proved to be when it came to the two detectives - and the bearded man from the missing child case had been rather springy but showed no sign of pain or the like.

Sasuke Uchiha had been too fiery during the interrogation of what Wu had seen to be injured in any way and the black-haired teen had been adamant when he had asked Renard to take him with them. Even now, Wu couldn't even begin to think why the Captain had ever considered it which meant Renard was most likely in on whatever secret thing was going on.

The only one left in the Sergeant's calculation was the blonde whom Wu was positive was the attacker of the jogger earlier this very morning. Not to mention that the reported shot would give purpose to the array of bloody instruments discarded in the bin.

There was still light in the storage room and while the Sergeant hadn't had the time to see where the two suspects had went - in favour of avoiding being spotted - he guessed they hadn't left the room. A soft snoring was coming from the other side of the closed door, a vibrating sound Wu would most of all have associated with a purring cat. He was willing to bet they were both fast asleep.

Taking a risk he was willing to take, he opened the door to the storage room as slowly as he had done with the front door.

On the left, just inside of the room, was a lumpy old couch with two sleeping teenagers on it. A fluffy green blanket had been thrown over them but it was obvious even to Wu that the blonde was literally sleeping _on_ the Uchiha who had his arms encircling the waist of the other boy if the creases on the blanket were anything to go by. Wu came to a halt, hand still on the doorknob, when Sasuke Uchiha cracked open one sleepy eye. The half asleep boy had his head resting on the armrest and his neck was bent at an awkward angle but it didn't stop Wu from feeling something he hadn't faced in a long time.

An instinct of fear; so primal Wu had trouble recognizing it as his own. Their eyes locked and Wu gulped, sweat breaking on his brow and for a short moment, no one did or said anything. Sasuke's eyes turned as red as the blood in the bin and before Wu even knew it, he had drawn his gun, pointing it at the completely motionless black-haired teen. Anger, confusion and protectiveness swirled in the depths of those startlingly red eyes.

Wu had pulled the trigger and the glass from a window broke under the strain of the metal from his bullet.

The projectile had sailed through the air, tearing through the feathers from the lumpy couch and hit the window facing the street, but Sasuke had thrown himself and the other teen to the floor, narrowly dodging the bullet.

The blonde had woken up by now, fingers desperately clutching onto the black-haired teen's hoodie. With a terrifying loud howl, so akin to a wounded animal Wu nearly dropped his gun, the blonde twisted and turned in the other teen's arms. His eyes were blue and bloodshot but while they were open, he didn't seem to register any of the things he was seeing.

With a curled fist he broke free from Sasuke's hold on him and in front of Wu's eyes, the teenager began to change. His body grew smaller until it no longer fit him and his skin sprouted golden fur. The scars on his cheeks sprung from their place on his face and became real whiskers, light bouncing from the small strings of white that whirled around in synchronicity with the darkly coloured nose. Hands broke and fingers curled in on themselves until they became nothing more than paws, claws clicking on the floor and tongue lolling. But the blue eyes remained somewhat the same.

One eye was still blue and bloodshot but the other looked as though an explosion of the internal veins in the eyes had decided to take time off and screw with the process of taking care of the eye whites.

The blonde teen had turned into a fox, a normal sized fox, if not slightly smaller, but nine tails swung from the place where it was obvious the spine had split to accommodate the large number of extra appendages. The animal threw itself under the couch, shoulders scraping and fur brushing the springs until it was out of view, hidden underneath the sofa in a desperate attempt of survival. Left in it's wake was the suspect on the floor, looking as frightened and paralysed as Wu himself.

It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. It was a figment of his own imagination just like the Aswang. It wasn't _real_.

Someone knocked into him from behind but Wu didn't register it. The gun was pulled from his hands and he was thrown down on the floor in a strong grip. A police grip. Nick, assumed Wu, his face flat against the floor, unable to turn and look at his assailant. The wind from the broken window was cold on his face.

He could see the fox under the couch. Eyes glowing and a snarl on its face. The whiskers had collected a fairly generous amount of dust bunnies and the creature sneezed in reply to his incessant staring. Someone was talking to him.

"Wu, god dammit, what the hell were you thinking?" It was Nick. Another person squatted down beside the detective. Hank, no doubt. The woman rushed past them and in a hurried voice she asked a foreign word. Or maybe a name?

"Where is Naruto?" Her voice was glass cutting clear and with a gentle hand on the suspect's shoulder, the black-haired teen snapped out of whatever daze he had been locked in. He didn't answer but lowered himself to the ground until he was almost flat against the wooden floor.

"Naruto," he eased and a hand snaked under the couch. The fox growled in response but the man didn't stop. The fox didn't bite him either. It's teeth were blotted and froth dribbled from it's mouth, shoulders protruded from loose skin and the hulking shape huddled beneath the darkness of the couch was more scary than any Aswang Wu had ever seen.

Yes, he would prefer the Aswang over the fox any day despite the obvious size difference. The little nasty animal was seriously creepy.

With a strong grip, the Uchiha pried the fox from within the safe depths of the couch and while it snapped after his fingers, thrashed and clawed, not once did Sasuke let go. He pulled the animal out with a _plop_ and cradled the fox in his arms.

"It's okay," he said, voice soft and almost inaudible. His fingers were stroking the golden fur and the nine tails slapped his arms but the fox didn't try to get away. "Hush, you baka, it's okay,"

No one spoke, not even Hank or Nick who were still obviously trying to figure out what Wu was doing in the spice shop. The woman had taken a few steps back, not entirely comfortable with the situation and the bearded man kept in the background too, eyes trained on the animal in the black-haired teen's arms.

At first, the gentle murmurs didn't seem to have much of an effect. The fox was still slobbering and the growl had never ceased from it's vibrating throat but then the eyes began changing colour. The bloodshot red left the one eye that had been completely overtaken and was replaced by the blue hue which the animal had had when it had been human. Then the colour of the other eye, which had carried a hint of red, receded until there was nothing left but blue. So much blue.

The fox blinked; confused at first and then it was almost as if a veil had been lifted from it's mind. It gave a startled yelp and stuck it's wet nose into the crook of Sasuke's arms. "Hey," he said and the fox gave a barely distinguishable noise akin to a whine. The teen was the one with the red eyes now.

Wu gulped from his spot on the floor. The angle of which he was seeing things from was less than perfect but it helped that Sasuke had chosen a sitting position on the floor, right next to the couch as he calmed down the distressed animal. But now, Wu had to wonder who was the animal and who was the human if they both had red eyes. Was the Uchiha going to turn into an animal as well?

"We'll be in the main room," said Sasuke, bending his knees as he got up, Naruto in his arms as nothing more than a bundle of fluffy golden fur. The growling had ceased as well as the teeth baring and the frothing, but one sleeve of the Uchiha's hoodie was wet and nasty looking. "And then I'll fix you some clothes," the last part was directed at the fox who had yet to move it's head from the warmth of the crook in Sasuke's arms. It was acting embarrassed, Wu realized.

The Sergeant didn't watch them leave the room but he heard the sloshing footsteps on floorboards disappear with the _click_ he usually associated with a closing door.

"Wu," said Nick and the disappointment in his voice was so toxic Wu didn't know how to respond. "Were you following us?" Admittedly, that was not the first question Wu had expected once the 'teen turned fox' had been carried out of the room like a pet cat snuggling up to its owner.

"You stole my evidence!" Protested the Sergeant but even he could hear how feeble his voice sounded. The acoustics of a face pressed cheek down on the floor wasn't the most optimal when you were trying to sound indignant. And still have some of that pride slipping through his fingers left intact.

"For your own sake!" Began Nick but he didn't let go of Wu. Apparently they weren't done discussing but Wu faintly registered a sound like a _puff_ from somewhere. He couldn't peck the source before Nick spoke again. "In case you haven't noticed, this wasn't exactly one of your best plans." One of the other people not yet squatting down beside the Sergeant walked past him, heels tapping against the floor. It was the woman.

She rapped on the door to the main room and spoke through the wood. "Sasuke, is Naruto dressed yet?" She asked. There was a muffled noise of rustling before someone spoke again, voice gruff as it was carried to the room through the barrier that was a door.

"Sort of dressed," came the reply. Rosalee raised a curious eyebrow and before she could stop herself, another question flew out.

"Sasuke, are you dressed?" She asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Nick faltered in his grip and Wu's arms came just a bit more loose than the second before, but Wu didn't run. He needed answers and he needed them tonight. An indignant shout later and the door was yanked open, leaving Rosalee to quickly abscond from her place by the door and in walked a fully dressed Naruto, face drunken red.

"Dammit teme, you don't joke about that sort of stuff," grumbled the blonde and drew the orange hoodie closer to himself. Sasuke walked into the room, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he tied a red string back on a scroll. So that was how Naruto had acquired a fresh t-shirt after operation, thought Rosalee. Shinobi tricks were rather useful it would seem.

The blonde stalked further into the room, dropped down so he was eye level with Wu and raised one finger. "It's not nice to shoot people when they are trying to sleep, you know," he said.

"You're real?" Asked Wu. The blonde's eyes were neither bloodshot or deep red, just blue.

"Yes I am,"

"You're real."

"I think we've already established that,"

"You're real!"

It could have been the shock from having been apprehended by his friends or the fact that a very much _human_ boy was sitting in front of him and giving him lectures on manners and how to behave - and avoid shooting teenagers under suspicion of murder - but in any case; Wu fainted.

The Sergeant's head hit the floorboards as Naruto started to talk again but the obvious _clonk_ of a head hitting wood was as loud as a thunderclap in the quiet room.


	9. Revelations Of A Mad Man

Revelations Of A Mad Man

Chapter VIII

Someone slapped him on the cheek. Hard.

"Ouch," mumbled Wu, trying blink his eyes open in frustration but they wouldn't budge. His head was ringing, voices trailing at the edge of his consciousness. The Sergeant's body was heavy and while his arms were incredibly sore, his cheek stung like a patch of nettles. "God that stings," but he wasn't sure the words actually came out of his mouth or if they were still stuck in his brain.

Someone murmured a word, or perhaps a sentence, and a plaster of something cool touched his heated cheek. It was surprisingly wet and sticky and Wu didn't doubt that if he fell down onto the floor again, his face would be permanently stuck.

Wait, why wasn't he on the floor?

The motion of moving his eyelids took a lot of strenght but with a groan, Wu cracked open his left eye. Sunlight streamed through the top of a window. Or what would have been a window if there had not been a good chunk of cardboard fixed to the frame with duct tape. The sunlight betrayed the coldness of the room. A slight drift came from the 'would have been a window if you had not pulled out your gun' but it was morning in Portland. One of the first winter mornings of the year, if Wu was guessing correctly.

Wu tried moving his hands but found that he couldn't. They had been tied safely to the back of the chair he was currently seated on and left no room for the Sergeant to scratch his nose or rub his stinging cheek. Someone was standing in front of him, temporarily blurred as the sun made Wu winch and once again yearn to rub his eyes.

It was a tall, dark, stranger considering the light made it almost impossible for the Sergeant to distinguish nose from mouth until his eyes finally adjusted to the somewhat dim and harsh light of the spice shop.

"Wu," said the stranger and the Sergeant squinted. The voice was familiar but not Nick or Hank which could only mean one thing. The Captain. "Wu, are you awake?"

"Yeah," said Wu and cricked his head. "But I feel like shit," he gave a nervous chuckle but when the Captain didn't even give a sarcastic smirk in response to his obvious comment, Wu started to notice the state Renard was in.

Obvious bags ran under his eyes and his face was set in a rather grim grimace, shoulders hunched and his trenchcoat hung loosely on his tall frame. The stare was directed at Wu and the Sergeant gulped.

"Do you know why you are in that chair?" Asked Renard, pointing briefly to the rope Wu could see from the corner of his eyes.

"Because Nick and Hank stole my evidence?" He ventured.

"Wrong."

"Because I followed Nick and Hank?"

"Partially," drawled Renard.

"Because I tried to shoot the suspects?"

"There is my Sergeant," a sarcastic clap if Wu had ever heard one. "What were you trying to accomplish in the first place? This is unlike you," The unspoken words were left buried deep in the ground but Wu could read between the lines. _I'm disappointed in you_.

Wu scoffed but no anger slipped through his next words and he merely sighed instead. "Excuse me for wanting to know why my so called friends stole my evidence and celebrated with suspects until late at night." Renard looked somewhere past the Sergeant and Wu tried to twist his head until he could see what the Captain was staring at with an incredulous raised eyebrow. A rustle of clothes and Wu spotted the fabric clad arm of one Nick Burkhardt.

Oh, so he had been there all along.

"We thought we had gotten away with it, and frankly, everyone needed to cheer up a bit," said Nick, defensive, arms crossed over his chest.

"You aren't supposed to think, you are supposed to _know_ whether or not you got away with something. That attitude is what might get you caught if you are not too careful," said Renard and Wu felt left out of the loop. Why was Renard giving Nick advice on how to avoid being spotted doing something illegal? Wouldn't it make more sense to scold the detective?

"Am I missing something here?" Asked Wu. "Like the golden fox who was actually human or are you going to pass me off as crazy again? Though I'm pretty sure everyone saw it this time." Beside him, Nick stiffened and his fingers tightened the hold on his clothed arms so much that his knuckles turned white and bleak.

Nick kept quiet and while Wu half hoped for the detective to say something about their strange predicament, it was once again Renard who took the lead. "Alright. Wu, I realize that this might not be the best circumstances under which you have had to be told incriminating information about both your world and our world, but it would seem that waiting it out is no longer an option due to a certain blockhead over there." Renard inclined his head at Nick and the detective in question grumbled but didn't fight. The Grimm had made a mistake and he was willing to take the blame that may or may not follow.

Wu frowned. "Your world and our world?"

"Yes," said Renard. The Captain was still in front of the chair Wu was tied to, and the Sergeant silently wished they would hurry the hell up and get him out of the constricting binds gnawing at his wrists. He was so going to get bruises. "Your world; a world covered with blissful ignorance of not knowing the dangers lurking behind every person and then there is our world; where everything is not as it seems and almost every person you meet wants to kill you with their bare hands."

For some reason, Wu didn't seem too surprised. "So, what you are trying to say is that the fox-human or whatever, is from your world and is not normal in any way?" A quick nod from Renard.

"Basically, yes."

"So I'll be taking a wild guess here and say that the Aswang was not a figment of my crazy imagination?"

"No, it was very much real," said Renard. Nick stepped past Wu's blind spot and the detective had the decency to look just a tiny hint guilty.

"I'm sorry,"

"Nah," said Wu, shrugging his shoulders as much as he could while being tied up. "Don't worry 'bout it. Kind of just makes a lot more sense than random people trying to kill you."

Now it was Nick's turn to be surprised. "You're not mad? Even though we lied?"

"No. I think it did me a lot of good getting away from the force for a while. Even though it's a weird definition of a holiday, but it helped put a lot of things back in perspective."

"You do realize you are taking things much more calm than anyone else would, right?" Said Nick. "Hank went crazy and put bulletholes in his closet because he was scared something was going to jump out and maul him to death,"

"That was actually my first reaction after the Aswang but that's why I sought help. My salary isn't big enough to buy me a new closet in case of bulletholes."

Nick laughed at that one. Wu hadn't lost his humour and he seemed to be in a generally good mood despite having had a fistfull of ultimate weirdness thrown at him. Yes, the Sergeant was admirable both in work and in terms of mental health.

Renard stepped around the chair and Wu felt the pressure on his wrists lighten until the rope slid off and hit the floor.

"I take it you aren't going to shoot any more suspects?" Asked Renard and only then did Wu realize that his gun was no longer in its holster.

"I think I'm done for today. Shooting teens is not really my style."

"Good," said Renard and gestured for Wu to not leave the chair yet. Okay, hands were free but there was obviously more to the explanation as Renard disappeared out of the door behind him, leaving Wu with Nick. The Sergeant could hear other voices buzzing from behind the wall.

It was awkward, to say the least, but Nick broke the silence first with a slight cough.

"I really am sorry, Wu, I need you to know that," he said, feet shuffling and Wu grinned at the bashful action from the normally calm and collected, if slightly clumsy, detective.

"I know," said Wu. He didn't feel angry. Slightly hurt, yes, but not angry. They had all had their reasons to keep, well, _whatever_ those things were a secret and Wu hadn't been involved enough to earn that right. Except for now. He had definitely earned it now. "I don't blame you."

It was the magic word, apparently, as Nick slumped his shoulders and his arms lost their defensive stance just as the door swung open again and Wu twisted in his seat. Hank came in with a tense wave but no words of comfort. Another man, the suspect from the childnapping case and the woman - whom Wu presumed to be the bearded man's girlfriend - strutted in with a matching set of rather nervous smiles.

"I'm Rosalee," said the woman and stuck out her hand for the Sergeant to shake. Wu didn't get up from his chair, but took the outstretched hand in a show of good faith.

"Monroe," said the bearded man and Wu felt his hand being squeezed a bit too tight for comfort. Renard stalked in afterwards, in all his swishing trenchcoat glory and kept glancing towards the door he had just closed behind him. There were still voices on the other side of the door, soft spoken and hurried, although the barrier between them might have had a bit to do with the muffling of the words.

"Wu," said Renard and the Captain caught his attention once more, forcing the Sergeant to sit properly on the chair and focus on what was about to be said. "Do you know how this works? How people change and becomes something else?"

Wu shook his head. "When you said your world and our world, is that what you meant?" Asked the Sergeant, suddenly apprehensive at staying in the same room as someone who might rip out his guts if he stuck his foot in his mouth.

"Yes, that is exactly what I meant," said Renard.

"Then no, I don't know how it works. Except for when the Aswang changed into an old woman right in front of me."

"That's the basics," said Nick. "When you can change like that, you are what most would call a Wesen. Someone who is human in looks but has certain qualities to their persona which cannot be described as human in any way without sounding too much like a science fiction novel."

Wu clicked his tongue and wrung his hands, more out of habit than nervousness. "Am I to assume that some of the people in here are Wesen?"

Renard didn't miss a beat when he calmly nodded and smirked. "You don't miss out on an opportunity, am I right?"

"Indeed you are," said Wu. There was a short while when no one said anything or they simply didn't know what to say. Perhaps maybe with the exception of Renard who merely seemed to relish in the awkward atmosphere until Wu decided to break it.

"Can I see?" He asked no one in particular but his gaze somehow ended up on Nick.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," said Rosalee. She was back to biting her lip and Wu had decided to chalk it up to nothing more than nervousness. "Both Hank and Juliet freaked out a bit afterwards,"

"Juliette knows?" Asked Wu.

"Yeah, why?" Responded Nick, his brows furrowing in obvious confusion.

"It's just something she told me when I was still at the nuthouse. I guess everything is falling into place now, sort of. Turns out I was missing one of the puzzle pieces."

"Indeed you were," said Renard and beckoned for Rosalee to step closer. "You are the least intimidating of us. I believe it will be better if you go first."

It was her cue and the Fuchsbau looked Wu straight in the eye, repeating what she had told Juliette when the redhead had asked for a demonstration. "I want you to remember that it's me, no matter what you see, okay?"

A curt nod.

Rosalee cocked her head, flipping her hair back as she felt her face change. Fur growing out and nose growing in, a low keening noise somewhere in the back of her throat. For a short moment Rosalee was unsure whether or not she had managed to make herself successfully seen by humans because Wu had no outward reaction to her change. His face was as relaxed as before but a slight change in his eyes was all the confirmation Rosalee needed before she changed back. "I'm a Fuchsbau," she said, as though the word was meant to trigger some long forgotten memory. It didn't.

The Sergeant snuck a glance at Monroe. "And you are?" He asked. Monroe strode forward as Rosalee slunk back, leaving the Blutbad to deal with Wu.

Instead of saying anything or preparing him for what was to come, Monroe woged. His face gained a quality of someone who was neither man nor animal. Red eyes and foul smelling breath, the Blutbad stuck his face close to Wu's. No immediate reaction until the Sergeant cocked an eyebrow.

"Are you a werewolf?" He asked as Monroe shifted back. The Blutbad snorted.

"That's offensive," he said. "But I understand your reaction although the correct term would be a Blutbad." Wu looked at each person in turn after Monroe stepped back, leaving enough floor room for another person to step up and do a round of show and tell.

"Don't tell me you are a Wesen too, Hank," laughed Wu and the Sergeant was slightly relieved as the mustached man shook his head with a laugh of his own.

"No, man," said Hank. "Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen or some other German name for a human who knows about Wesen."

"Then what about Nick?"

The detective gulped. That one would be hard to explain but hey, it was worth a shot if it meant getting Wu on the team. "I'm a Grimm," said Nick. As he would have guessed, Wu looked like one giant question mark until he elaborated on the subject. "Someone who can see Wesen without being one when they look me into the eyes. It's sort of my duty to put down strays if they can't handle the pressure of living in a human world." Although his tone had been light and carefree, the statement within was clear. Nick was the cop of the Wesen world and he was both judge and jury.

"Oh," said Wu and noticed Renard had taken refuge in one of the corners. "Human, Grimm or Wesen?" Asked the Sergeant. The Captain tapped his fingers against his trenchcoat covered leg and contemplated. Was it worth telling Wu about the Royals now or should he wait? Shaking his head to himself, Renard made up his mind.

"I am what one would call a Zauberbeist; a witch-like creature but only the females - called Hexenbeists - have powers. Males are merely there to keep the bloodline going." For now, Wu had granted his trust enough to know that he was Wesen but disclosing his rather blue heritage wouldn't be beneficial for either of them. Might even make things more difficult if the Sergeant was to treat him differently despite not realizing it himself.

For the shortest of seconds, Renard revealed his true face. The skin was ruggedy and it looked as though someone had piled several layers of leather upon his face, cut it up and then sewn it back together again. It was ugly, one mouth hanging half open from a slack jaw and holes had appeared in the skin as though it was nothing more than a few moles or blemishes.

It was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"As you see," began Renard, massaging his neck with one hand. "It is not everyone who is of use even though they are Wesen."

Wu stood up from the chair, a lazy drawl back on his face as he trailed one hand through his short trimmed hair. "Then, if you don't mind, I believe my shift starts soon. I'll get going unless you have some more psycho stuff you want to dump on my poor brain?"

"Only one more question, actually," said Renard. "The yellow manila folder, did it contain _all_ the information on Sasuke Uchiha?"

"Yeah, everything I had collected from various reports including handwritten notes," answered Wu and cocked an eyebrow in question.

The Captain frowned. That meant someone else was well on their way to figure out the connection between them and that could put them in a peculiar situation. Wu made a motion for the door and Renard scoffed. "You are free to go, if that is what you are asking." The Captain drew a gun from within his trenchcoat and handed it to Wu. The gun and holster clipped as easily back into place as it had been clicked out. For once, Wu smiled as he headed for the door and bid his farewells all around the room.

"Captain, by the way, a couple of feds dropped by just before Hank and Nick stole all of my things - which I sort of still want back but I know you can't give - and they were pretty adamant about the latest case." Said Wu. It was only common courtesy to let them know, now that he had been let in on their secrets. Besides, Renard would have heard about it either way.

"I see," a hand rose to Renard's chin as the Captain frowned once again. "That is indeed a problem …" There followed a contemplative silence which no one dared to break but no one was comfortable in either. Wu was waiting for a further answer before walking out, but the stretching silence did nothing to ease his escape.

"When was this?" Inquired Renard.

"Just before Nick and Hank showed up at the station. Why? Didn't you two see them on your way out?" He directed the last question at both Nick and Hank but they shook their heads in response. It was near impossible to exit the police station without using the elevators or the fire escape and yet the two feds had left unnoticed at the same time the contents of one of their manila folders had disappeared.

"Do you think they were the ones who took the file?" Asked Nick, mulling over the question. It was plausible and not entirely impossible. On the contrary, it would make more sense if it had been a couple of Hundjäger than actual FBI agents. "Is there any connection to the Royals?"

For once, Renard seemed to have no immediate answer. "I'm afraid they might. It isn't known neither to my contacts nor to me how far my cousin's influence stretches." He said. "But I fear it has already grabbed a hold of Portland despite my tries to keep them out of our hair."

"I don't blame you," piped Monroe, sharing a quick glance with Nick and Renard. "I mean, the reapers were pretty intent on me staying away from Nick but let's face it, I'm not getting out of this."

Rosalee gave a small start, nothing significant but just enough of a jolt for the non-human creatures in the room to pick up on it. "Not like _we_ are getting out of this," she said pointedly. For a short moment, Monroe was taken aback by her apparent fierceness not closely associated with Fuchsbau but then his face softened.

"I know," he said and that was that. Nick admired their wordless relationship, letting their emotions out so easily that the other could pick up and act on them according to what the other needed. It was so startlingly clear how strong their love for each other was. Monroe would never be in this mess alone; he would always have Rosalee by his side, even if the Blutbad disliked it in fear of her getting hurt in the process. It couldn't be helped and Rosalee would be damned if she was kept standing at the startline when she might be able to do something to help. Even if that something was just tending to scratches and whatnot.

Sometime during their little moment, Wu had snuck out of the door and the distinctive tiny roar of his Fiat Panda resounded through the thin layer of cardboard coating the broken window.

"I'll need to get that fixed soon, don't I?" Asked Monroe and Rosalee batted him on the arm.

"If you can replace the glass on a watch, then a window shouldn't be too hard," she reasoned. "And let's move this discussion into the main room, shall we? I don't want to treat all of you for colds because of the window and stupid irrational arguments about being vikings," she left no room for discussion and when she heard the soft pitter patter of feet against floor, the Fuchsbau knew the men were following without needing further persuasion.

In reality, she was amazed by how quiet the two teens had been under the whole Wu incident and the following discussion. Rosalee had given the blonde more of the calming herb mixture but not enough to knock him out or make him too severely disoriented - just enough to make him calm down and still keep up a sensible conversation should the need arise. But there hadn't been as much as a pip from either of them. Even when Wu had walked out afterwards he would have had to go past them as she had told them both to stay in the main room. If nothing, her heartbeat increased at the thought of them running out on her. God, that would be stupid but she wouldn't put it past them.

What she found was two snoring teens snuggled together in one corner.

"Aren't they cute?" She asked. When no one answered, she looked at Monroe, daring him to counter her statement.

"If you are going to be talking about having children, can't it at least wait till after the wedding?" He teased. Rosalee turned bright red and was left with a gaping mouth when Renard conspicuously cleared his throat to announce the situation as serious once again.

"They can't stay at the spice shop, I hope you realize that," he said. It was clear Rosalee was the one most attached to both teenagers, perhaps due to her foxy qualities gained from her Fuchsbau side, but nevertheless it didn't make matters any easier. "We'll have to move them to a safer location,"

"But what _is_ a safe location? Naruto is as dangerous as a couple of Balam in a tight spot if not even worse!" Exclaimed Nick. There was a brief pause of frustration from Hank as the mustached man frowned at the casual Wesen terms being floundered in his face and not yet know what they were. Neither Nick nor Renard offered him an explanation as the Captain answered with as much vigour as Nick was against the whole idea.

"I will be completely honest here and say your place would be the safest location at this point in time."

Nick gaped. "You can't be serious?" He cried, so close to running his hands through his hair in frustration but refrained from doing so. His hair didn't need to suffer for his Captain's lack of common sense. Or his lack of tact for that matter. "And exactly how am I going to explain this to Juliette?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way." Was all that followed and Nick was tempted to make Renard his next target. If he would just step one foot out of line, the Grimm was sure he would haul the Captain's ass back to Vienna and giftwrap him for what was left of his family. Yes, that would be a nice change of pace for once.

"If you will excuse me, it seems I have to dig up two FBI agents, so I'll let you deal with those two," Renard inclined with his head towards the two sleeping teenagers - Sasuke had his arms wrapped around Naruto in a comforting embrace once again - and disappeared out the front door with just the tingle of the ringing bell left in his wake.

"If he wasn't my boss I would have lopped off his head a long time ago just for being such a smartass."

* * *

><p>If ever there had ever been a situation with an awkward silence, it was this one. The one where you aren't quite sure what to say to your girlfriend when you bring over two sleepy teenagers who just happen to be Wesen related and one of them a Royal at that. (Who might just kill your neighbours if you aren't too careful.)<p>

"Sorry I didn't call before hand," said Nick with a nervous smile. Oh yes, that girlfriend of his could see right through his act.

Juliette had opened the door, seen the teens and had yet to let them in. "You better be sorry," she said. "I've only bought dinner for two so either you are fetching more zucchini or we are eating a tipped freezer, is that understood?"

"Tipped freezer it is then," said Nick. He wasn't comfortable enough leaving those two alone with Juliette. Not that he was scared they might do something to her (he couldn't deny it either, they looked awfully cute and not scary when they slept) but who knew what might tick Naruto off. Sure, Rosalee had mentioned Sasuke to have some sort of influence over the blonde but to what extent? The Grimm hadn't bothered asking, knowing there would be little chance they might actually give him a decent enough answer. So no, he was definitely not leaving Juliette alone with two strangers, cuddly tendencies aside.

"Come on in," said Juliette and moved out of the doorway, only once giving the two strangers a look of curiosity before shaking her head and muttering to herself. Nick ushered the two boys inside before they had a chance to further protest their new living quarters. While Sasuke was the silent type, his scowls and smirks often said a lot more than words and his face had been particularly vicious when Nick had broken the news after Rosalee had woken them up. The Uchiha had not been happy and by the scowl on his face right as this moment, he still wasn't.

Naruto, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased. His eyes were literally absorbing all the content of the different rooms, racing in and out as he tried to map his way in the unfamiliar territory. In a way, Sasuke was doing the same, his eyes doing a discrete sweep of the room before he would follow Naruto with a grumble, complaining about stupid idiots and their hyperactivity while under the influence of catnip. Naruto had no objections to the accusations and merely continued his sweep of the house.

Nick decided it had to be a ninja thing, securing the premise and making sure no one was hiding under the stairs or in a closet who might pop out and kill you while you were sleeping. That would be quite a problem if that was to happen under the Grimm's watch and Renard would surely be none too pleased about it.

Nick gently eased the door shut and Juliette stalked closer. "Who are they?" Her voice wasn't accusing, more curious than anything, in fact. Nick sighed.

"Trust me, you do not want the whole story." Juliette raised an eyebrow, a quirk to her lips as though she was contemplating whether or not to push her luck but she refrained from doing so, to Nick's great pleasure. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain everything even if she had pushed.

"But basically, the black-haired emo is Sasuke Uchiha, japanese origin, and the blonde is Uzumaki Naruto, also japanese origin. They are both nineteen years old and have connections to the Wesen world. Naruto is - apparently - a King and Sasuke is something akin to a bodyguard? I'm still not quite sure how that is supposed to work …" mumbled Nick. The two teens had forced themselves up the stairs despite injuries and Nick could hear them bustle about while checking every possible room for hidden traps and whatever they might be looking for in a house in the suburbs of Oregon, Portland.

"Wait, does that mean we have royalty visiting?" Asked Juliette. For some reason, it was the only thing she seemingly registered. Of course. "Nick, you should have called! We haven't cleaned this place properly for ages!" So that was what was worrying her; their lack of routine, containing things like scrubbing the floor, dusting off everything and vacuuming the grimy panels until they were shining. Not that they were dirty people, they just didn't have the time to clean that often.

Naruto trudged down the stairs, hand seeking support on the railing as he winced every second step, the pressure on his wound too great to not let his mask slip if only a little. Sasuke followed, albeit at a slower pace as to accommodate Naruto's ritual of stepping, tripping and stepping again. The black-haired teen wasn't trying to dash forward whenever Naruto stumbled but kept close enough should he actually tumble down the steps. By the time they both reached the bottom of the stairs, the blonde was out of breath and Sasuke kept glancing around with a collected mask firmly in place.

Sticking out one hand to Juliette the blonde gave an endearing smile. "I'm Naruto and the stuck-up bastard over there is Sasuke. I appreciate what you have done for us by allowing us to stay in your home and I assure you, we will try to keep the trouble to a minimum," his voice was kind, completely in accordance to his smile and Sasuke didn't even flinch when the blonde called him a bastard. Sasuke did scowl a bit more at the mention of hospitality.

Getting involved with other people meant more risk of exposing their secret - to more people than they had already been forced to - and hospitality generally meant favours. Two things the Uchiha wasn't exactly fond of in the first place.

"I'm Juliette. Juliette Silverton." It was a simple handshake but suddenly everything wasn't as awkward anymore. Sasuke was still glaring daggers at pretty much everything and everyone in the room, even Naruto but the blonde seemed unaffected by the harsh glare while he chatted away with a slightly unnerved Juliette.

Their discussion was mainly small talk; a little bit about food, a little bit about life and once when she asked why they needed shelter, Naruto clammed up and the topic wasn't brought up again. Juliette knew when a topic was off limits and Naruto was unwilling to share his past experience with Nick, and even Sasuke glared just a tad bit harder whenever she got a bit too close about something from their past

Naruto declared his hunger shortly afterward the awkward pause.

So they tipped the freezer.

Shrimp, some roast beef, a slice of lasagna and something green and smelly that should have been thrown out a long time ago. But not enough food to feed four people.

"I'm sorry but we don't really keep that much food since we are only two," apologized Juliette. Hell, it wasn't even enough food for her and Nick.

"Do you have pasta?" Asked Naruto.

"Yes, we do," said Juliette. Naruto flashed another one of his blinding smiles.

"Then do you mind if I cook just this once? I'm sure I can scrape together a decent meal with some of these ingredients,"

"No, no," tried Juliette. "You're the guests, I'll cook,"

"I insist," there was a flash of something in his eyes that made Juliette halt with her reply. It was a look she had seen one too many times on Nick's own face. A haunted look, one that shouldn't have been on Naruto's face at all but yet it was. And it scared her. One too many times it had been in the eyes of the animals she had treated in the clinic. The uncertainty of not knowing where you are and what might happen except you know it can't be good. That apprehensive look of someone declaring a need for peace.

"Okay, but at least let me get the ingredients." To that Naruto couldn't object.

Nick and Sasuke had taken up the couch and though it was tense and awkward with Naruto and Juliette bustling around in the kitchen, Nick turned on the television to ease both the Grimm and the Uchiha into the new situation. It wasn't as though Nick was particularly fond of inviting strangers home, but whatever Renard says is law, even if it means doing things a little bit differently. And even if that meant leaving his girlfriend to cook dinner with an unstable homicidal Wesen high on catnip.

"He likes to cook you know," said Sasuke. It was a sudden break of his 'I don't give a crap about anyone and I won't talk unless you make me' streak he had going but the talk was welcomed. "It keeps his mind off … bad things."

Nick was tempted to ask the black-haired teen what he meant but knew better than to interrupt.

"He is the only one of us with decent cooking skills. Not to mention he had to learn how to make dinner that wasn't ramen when we got together. Hell if I'll let that shit slow down my thinking process like the dobe's," said the Uchiha. He was oddly at ease, his face neither in a frown nor a scowl for the first time since Nick had seen him.

A steady humming came from the kitchen and it made the black-haired teen rest his head on the back of the couch, his eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling until he eventually closed them and gave a slight huff of air.

It was a nice song. Nothing fancy and no words but it was soothing and even Nick felt entranced by it. The Grimm didn't have to guess it was Naruto doing the humming but not hearing Juliette sing while she bustled around in the kitchen put him off, if only for a little bit. It didn't sit well with Nick that he felt such calmness come over him when it was a complete stranger cooking dinner in his and Juliette's house.

Sasuke must have picked up on his confusion somehow.

"Don't worry," he said. "Naruto has that effect on most people and you are no exception." For some reason, it made sense to Nick. If what Renard had said about the Uchiha clan and their connection with the Royal Wesen was true, it would only be natural that he would feel a connection as well, albeit at a much lesser degree. Which only made the Grimm wonder again. If Naruto could make the Grimm feel this drawn to him based on only genes, then Nick had no idea how Sasuke must have felt with the blonde missing and out of reach.

"Dinner is ready," came a call from the kitchen. A female voice, Juliette, as the humming had stopped shortly before her declaration.

Nick turned off the television and Sasuke's eyes fluttered open. For a short moment, Nick had been tempted to think the Uchiha fast asleep simply by the way his chest would rise and fall in a steady pattern but the Uchiha's attempt at small talk had suggested otherwise.

Nick nearly flew out into the kitchen when a delicious waft of smell came from what was undoubtedly a pot full of good food made from nothing but scraps scavenged around the house. The Grimm could definitely smell what Sasuke had meant with cooking skills.

"Have a seat," said Juliette when the two of them reached the table. Forks, knives, glasses and just about everything else you might need when eating dinner, was placed neatly on the table and dressed with a nicely folded napkin. A crane to exact.

Nick had no doubt it was Naruto's work.

The pot was on the table, simmering in its own leftover heat when Naruto came in with a water bottle and seated himself at the table. Juliette didn't get a chance to seat herself beside her new friend before Sasuke had claimed the chair without a word and a speed to match lightning, all the while his face remained as indifferent as ever.

Juliette decided not to comment on the action - wise move, thought Nick - and chose the seat beside the Grimm. With a gloved hand, she removed the hot lid and an aroma of flavours and scents burst into the room. Compared to the previous meager fumes Nick had smelled, this was over the top and made his mouth water, unnecessarily so.

Pasta mixed with asparagus, red pepper and then topped with a generous amount of cream sauce looked as enticing as if it had been served at a restaurant.

"Dig in," said Juliette. "It's Naruto's recipe."

They nearly divided the whole dish in four pieces, so hungry were they after two long days of mysteries and killer Wesen tendencies. They waited until they had all taken their serving before digging in, but again Naruto waited, eyes strained on the delicious food in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Asked Nick. Naruto shook his head but still he didn't reach for neither fork nor knife in an attempt to eat.

"It's just been so long since I've eaten proper food," he said and the Grimm could see the haunted teenager back at the shop, huddled up with his boyfriend, soaked in blood and burning flesh. "One can only live on rabbits for so long." It was a weak attempt at a joke, but a joke nonetheless and only Naruto gave a frail chuckle before his hand reached for the fork.

"I should have found you sooner," said Sasuke. The Uchiha hadn't stopped eating, a habit from his many days on the road and little time to rest in but Naruto took no notion of what Nick and Juliette considered rude behaviour.

"It wasn't your fault," said Naruto.

"It's always been my fault," the blonde halted eating again but he didn't look up at Sasuke.

"Sasuke …"

"No, Naruto. I abandoned you for three years but you never gave up on me and then when you leave, I still couldn't catch up to you."

Naruto resumed eating and Sasuke had never stopped but the conversation left Nick and Juliette in an uncomfortable silence.

"It is how it is, Sasuke," said Naruto. "And we can't run from what we are."

The way Naruto said it made Nick cringe. As if the two teens had had no choice in their destiny or what they were born as. Which, considering everything, they probably hadn't.

Under the table, Naruto and Sasuke's hands found each other in a tight grip. Such was the blessing of food that required only one hand for eating it properly.

"What do you mean _what_ you are?" Asked Juliette.

This was going to be a long night.


	10. But He Might Eat Me! Cried The Beaver

**Special thanks to The Sin of Justice for being a continuing reviewer! (And there is no reason behind the upper case letters in the title, except for outlay purposes).**

**And here comes Sam and Dean :3**

**Psst, have a cookie if you can get the reference ;)**

* * *

><p>"But He Might Eat Me!" Cried The Beaver<p>

Chapter IX

"Remind me what we are doing here again?" Asked Nick.

It was - if anything - the most ludicrous suggestion Juliette had ever made. Even more ludicrous than inviting Hank and Adalind over for dinner. And somehow she had still managed to convince him to go to the amusement park with two teens. Juliette had tagged along on the basis that it was her idea but that didn't make it any easier. Ever since she had discovered the two boys holding hands after dinner she had nearly freaked out as much as Rosalee. In a way, her reaction had been more subtle. Nothing more than a soft smile and Nick thought that while she was okay with it, she wouldn't do anything else. In general, for the Grimm, it was already over the line just inviting them into his home but it was even worse when Juliette asked him that morning.

At first, the Grimm had insisted it would be a bad idea as someone might have seen the APB before they had had the chance to delete it (when told about the obvious illegal act, Juliette had done nothing more than give him a slap on the shoulder and a smile) and might act on behalf of those out of date informations.

Juliette had laughed and proceeded down the stairs to tell the boys they were going.

Which meant the Grimm was surrounded by an army of children and older parents begging for painkillers to take away the growing headache. As much as Nick disliked the whole bright and cheery aura, Juliette was running from stall to stall with a bright smile on her face. He honestly hadn't seen her as happy since before the whole 'Adalind with a creepy cat in tow' incident.

Sasuke wasn't faring much better.

The broody teen had his hands stuck in his pants and his black hoodie had been drawn up to shield his face from any and all sunlight except Naruto.

Seeing the Uchiha silently tail the blonde only proved to strengthen the theory of the powerful bond Nick had already sensed. Naruto was as bubbly as Juliette, neither straying too far from the other as they playfully darted from the different games while Nick and Sasuke followed at a slower pace.

Near a stall with a game of duck pond Juliette suddenly halted, her rod caught on a bright orange duck, the magnet too weak to hold onto the game while being held in midair. "Bud?" She called and Naruto halted in his game as well, frowning as he turned to look at who Juliette might have addressed.

A middle aged man spun around on the spot, eyes squinting as he searched for whoever might have called for him in such a crowded place. His scalp was nearly balded and the plaid shirt he was wearing did nothing to contain his bulging pot belly, but a smile lit up on his face when he spotted Juliette and Nick along with two teens.

"Juliette! Nick! What are you two doing here?" Asked Bud as he made his way through a group of resilient third graders.

"Just hanging around," answered Juliette as she fished for another duck now that she had lost the orange one. "We thought it might be a good idea to get Naruto and Sasuke out of the house while the weather is still decent."

"Wife had the same idea. She's somewhere around here with the three rascals," he laughed. There were a good portion of smaller rides, mainly for the younger children and it would make sense for Phoebe and Bud to hang around there instead of by the monstrous rollercoasters. "And who are these two? Cousins of yours?" Asked Bud with a general hand in Sasuke's direction.

"Sort of," said Nick. It wasn't really a lie but not exactly the truth either. "Sasuke is a far out great grand cousin or something on my mother's side." Sasuke snorted but didn't object. Nick was unsure if the Uchiha understood the implications. There was still a good chance Sasuke didn't know about the connection between Uchihas and Grimms.

"And I'm just a tag along," said Naruto with a laugh. He butted Sasuke on the shoulder and shook hands with an equally laughing Bud. The blonde had a certain aura that calmed people - as long as he was on his catnip mixture. "The name is Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki, and this is Sasuke Uchiha,"

Bud released Naruto's hand and with a quickly whispered _oh my God_ the Eisbiber began hyperventilating. "Oh my God!" Cried Bud, wiping his sweaty hands on his shirt as he started to ramble, too fast and too unintelligible to understand properly.

"Bud, calm down," said Juliette as she tried to make the frantic Eisbiber breathe properly and not throw a complete fit while in the sight of non Wesen people.

"But - but he is _the_ Wesen!" Said Bud and before Nick's eyes, the Eisbiber features began to pop out. Whiskers, fur and long front teeth only added to the nervous way Bud was shifting from foot to foot and wringing his hands, looking all the more unsure whether or not to run or stay. He ended up staying. "I know the Lodge had heard rumours but we never expected them to be real but here you are and I can't really believe it but you are real and standing right here!" Bud was rambling again.

"Wait, slow down, Bud. You said the Lodge knew there was a new King?" Asked Nick, effectively shutting up the Eisbiber from scaring away the two teens who looked about ready to bolt and get away from the middle aged Wesen.

"Yeah, of course we knew, or we didn't _actually_ know but we had our guesses and the rumours had been around for ages. Some of the younger generations had to be taught the song, you know?"

"No, Bud, I didn't know, but thank you for informing me on that," grumbled Nick.

"Oh! That reminds me, I have to find Phoebe and tell her it's not just a rumour after all," Bud was grinning.

Before the Eisbiber could get too far away, Nick stopped the man by placing a calm hand on his shoulder. "Bud, you do realize you can't tell anybody about them, right?" It was a valid question and one the Grimm had to ask, knowing the Eisbiber might talk over himself in case someone as much as poked him in the stomach.

"Why not?" Asked Bud. He wasn't trying to twist out of Nick's rather strong grip but was half way poised to spring off at a moments notice. Presumably towards wherever Phoebe and the kids were.

"Bud," said Juliette, knowing the Eisbiber was more likely to listen to the Grimm's better half. "I know this may be hard to understand, but if anyone should find out Naruto and Sasuke are still in Portland, it's possible someone will try and kill them." Bud gasped and his face drenched of all colour.

"Someone would do that? To our King?"

Without missing a beat, Sasuke spoke more than monosyllables for the first time since they had entered the amusement park. "They already have."

If Bud could look more outraged than he had ever been despite all of their tense moments together, this face took the prize. His eyes turned to the size of saucers while his mouth flew open in a silent gasp, larger than the audible one before, and every little wrinkle in his skin doubled and bulged from where his brows were thrown up in indignation. Had he not changed back from his visible Eisbiber state, Nick was sure his mouth would have been unable to form the '_o_' shape without pricking open his lips with his large beaver teeth.

"Now you see why you can't tell Phoebe?" For once Juliette was sounding serious without any trace of amusement or a smile in her tone. Bud nodded frantically, his chin wobbling and gave Naruto and Sasuke a curt nod of his head before he turned to Nick.

"I'll just tell her I saw the two of you and no one else." And with that, Bud disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared; in a stream of schoolchildren with small backpacks and lanky bodies.

Naruto grinned. "Friend of yours, I assume?"

A sharp jab by Sasuke caused the blonde to whirl around on the spot - dropping his fishing rod in the process - only to be greeted with an eyeroll. "It was an Eisbiber, dobe," said the Uchiha. Naruto crossed his arms in defence and pouted.

"Not everyone has a sharingan …" he whined and Sasuke did nothing but smirk.

From the corner of the Grimm's eye, a shadow wheeled away before Nick could get a proper look. It wasn't as much that nervous feeling you get when there are too many people, but the feeling of someone watching you - specifically - that made the Grimm turn around.

"You felt it too?" Asked Sasuke who had turned towards the same booth as Nick was staring at.

"Yeah," he said. "But I don't know who or why."

Wisely enough, Juliette and Naruto moved just a bit closer to the other two but neither said a word. Juliette had grabbed her jacket and had drawn it tighter around her body as though the coming winter air was what had left her shivering. Naruto, on the other hand, seemed about as eager to stare at the booth as Sasuke, but he had kept within the reach of someone who might be able to protect him should it come to that - even if the blonde felt he didn't need protection.

For Nick, it was nice to know the Naruto wasn't going to be a problem if the need of protection came up and they were forced to split up. The last thing the Grimm needed was a Wesen with suicidal tendencies. Not really the greatest combination. But Naruto's quick decision to seek out the shelter in the middle of their tiny group reassured Nick of the opposite.

"Royals?" Asked Sasuke. If anything, the black-haired teenager had stepped even closer to Naruto. Not enough to hinder any of their movements but close enough for their shoulders to brush.

"Doubt it," answered Nick. "They don't like to do their dirty work in the daylight, but you never know."

"Shouldn't we go home?" Asked Juliette. She was keeping up the appearance of someone about to freeze off their toes but her nervous fidgeting brought her worries to Nick's attention. She was scared something was going to happen and Nick didn't blame her.

"Not to be offensive," began Sasuke and Nick let him carry on. No need to interrupt him when it seemed both of the teens were capable of coming up with rational decisions based on their current situation. "But I don't feel like being sitting ducks at your house. If we stay here there is a good chance they - whoever they are - won't take the risk of harming some innocent bystander. I say we stay here for as long as we can; stay in the crowded areas and keep on the lookout until we can get away."

"And how do you suggest we slip out of here? In case you haven't noticed, they seem to have us on their radar," grumbled Nick. It was always easier said than done.

"We'll follow one of those school classes out," said Naruto. He tore his gaze away from the booth and searched out the nearest exit. "They always leave in large groups and we might be lucky enough and get lost in the crowd if we move with them." It was a plausible plan - at least to some extent - and it was better than nothing, Nick decided.

"That might work, but I suggest we go for some of the middle schoolers or else we'll be too easy to see. Height difference and all," argued Nick. His slight alteration - or expansion - of the plan was met with nods from all three. Juliette was no longer shaking but she seemed as startled as a deer and the Grimm didn't want to frighten her any further by coming up with some elaborate and risky plan that might involve injuries. He had to remind himself that part of their group were trained killers but they still had a defenceless civilian amongst them. Sure, she could shoot but that wouldn't be of much help if it was a Siegbarste or anything larger than a Dickfellig.

"In the meantime let's go and have some fun!" Said Naruto, a bright big smile plastered on his face and his whisker scarred cheeks had the motion of real whiskers as they bounced up in tact with his features. Locking fingers with Sasuke and half-dragging, half-pulling the black-haired teen along, the blonde broke their circle and some of the tension flowed from Nick's shoulders.

Fun might just be what they needed.

* * *

><p>Nick had never been so terrified of children in his life.<p>

The main part of the plan had gone without a hitch, only getting the feeling of being watched a few times after the first incident and every time Nick and the others kept to the more popular areas with a large crowd.

Second phase of the plan? Not so much.

Nick remembered middle schoolers to be a bunch of awkward children, not quite sure of their identity yet and would therefore keep mostly to themselves and stay quiet if their teacher asked them to, simply because they believed in whatever authority the teacher claimed to have.

Apparently that wasn't the case now.

Nick had counted at least twentythree teenagers with smartphones and a smile a bit too silly for being worn in public while they chatted and took selfies of themselves and their friends. A group of girls - no more than four or five in their mighty pack - had even had the decency to steal a picture of the two teens of Nick's own group. Sasuke and Naruto had - accordingly to the lead diva of their small female squad - been 'too cute for their own good' when they had spotted the couple holding hands and Sasuke with his arms around Naruto's waist.

Little had they known Naruto had grown tired and the catnip mixture from that morning had started to wear off meaning had to Sasuke keep closer than usual while being out in the public.

Juliette had laughed at the scowl Sasuke had immediately placed on his face as soon as he figured out what the girls were up to, but the little upwards quirk of his lips couldn't be hidden away, not when being so close to the blonde and Nick suspected the two of them were symbiotically codependent beings.

The tiny group of four people amongst a mass of at least thirty bumbling teenagers wearing either heavy makeup or a thick fragrance of something most people would consider a lovely scent, had proved to be efficient and since they had exited the amusement park (thank God I can breathe again, exclaimed Naruto) none of them had felt those watchful eyes glare at their backs.

Both Nick and Sasuke had been convinced it had had to have been two people to cover such a large area, perhaps more, while Naruto had been busy not trying to kill anyone albeit his control had improved greatly from what Nick had seen.

The blonde's eyes had been neatly woven with threads of red but the blue colour had remained dominant, and Naruto had seemed to be in control except for the involuntary twitch every once in a while.

Only luck kept Naruto from openly maiming the giggling female group and the four of them had all drawn in a deep breath once they had safely exited the amusement park and had lost their stalkers in the fray. But eyes or no eyes, they had moved quickly to get back to the car and even then Naruto and Sasuke had slunk just a little bit further down in their seats so their heads weren't targets to every other car in traffic.

Arriving at home, Naruto had promptly received another swig of the bottle with catnip and had been carried upstairs for a quick nap before dinner. Juliette had taken it upon herself to prepare the food this time and with a quick trip to the grocery store, she had made a perfectly good meal with the zucchini from yesterday.

Their day at the amusement park had both been enlightening, not just about the personalities which the two teenagers possessed, but also about who might be after their heads.

Leaving Juliette in the kitchen, Nick and Sasuke had seated themselves in the couch and turned on the television but their minds were straying from the rugby game on screen. The announcer was screaming himself hoarse about some judge who couldn't see a seagull if it hit him in the face and the noises blended into the background.

"Are we sure it wasn't Royals?" Asked Sasuke. It would make sense if it had been a couple of spies eagerly awaiting the next possibility of a shot to remove them once and for all but Nick shook his head. The Grimm's eyes were still on the screen, pupils whirling around as he tried to follow the motion of the ball as one player was brutally tackled.

"No, it doesn't seem right. They wouldn't be that straight forward,"

Sasuke didn't contradict him but didn't approve of the statement either. Nick had fetched them a couple of beers and while the Grimm knew Sasuke wasn't allowed to drink yet, the Uchiha looked as sullen and tired as a fledgling out of its nest.

Taking a swig, Sasuke focused on the game. Someone was being carried out on a stretcher, a pack of ice firmly pressed against a knee that didn't look too good. From upstairs, a few steps creaked and Sasuke placed the bottle back on the table. Naruto was waking up again after a solid nap of what must have been just about an hour, the catnip mixture drowning him with sleepiness and a dull mind.

The wafting aromas from the kitchen awoke the slumbering blonde and limping down the stairs - one hand clutching the side with the bullet wound - and one hand on the railing made the blonde seem even smaller than usual. A yawn broke his indifferent face and seeing Nick and Sasuke sitting so casually on the couch, Naruto strolled over and plopped down between the two of them. Leaning more to the left so his head could rest on Sasuke's shoulder, the blonde gave a discrete purr. Nothing more than a strange vibrating sound barely hearable over the noise of the screaming commentator from the television.

"What are we gonna' do about those stalkers?" Slurred Naruto. Even his voice sounded tired and Nick had to remember that it was the catnip mixture that was making him seem high and not some joint he might have smoked for the fun of it. If the Grimm had met the blonde on the street for the first time, he wouldn't have hesitated to cuff Naruto for being under the influence of, well, anything really.

"I don't know," said Sasuke, shrugging so Naruto's head nearly rolled off but the black-haired teen caught himself in the last moment and kept the movement to a minimum while somehow still managing to get his point across. "I half would have expected them to not give a shit about civilians and just start opening fire."

Naruto poked the Uchiha in his calf. "Why do you have such a dirty mind?"

Sasuke grinned, a sight that made Nick's stomach turn; one lip quirked upwards but a hollow of skin crinkled and with no teeth visible, the black-haired teen had the look of a serial killer. With a shudder, Nick realized his guess probably wasn't that far off.

"Because you love it," answered Sasuke.

"So what if I do?"

It was a nice change to see them banter so easily about something that would have had their fellow teenagers run away, screaming in fear at the mere thought of someone being out to get them.

"Still, I don't suppose they'll show up at the doorstep," chuckled Naruto. He was cradling his side again, a side effect of someone trying to laugh but desperately trying not to let it rake over his whole frame. It would undoubtedly be painful if the skin was too loose and got caught in the fabric from his orange hoodie. There was no doubt the trip to the amusement park had upset the rugged wound, if only a little and the blonde had spent a good deal of time recuperating. The sleep being the only thing that had kept him from not letting his animalistic side take over and stumble down the stairs.

A knock came from the front door.

"Or maybe they would?" Ventured Naruto. The increase in his heartbeat was pounding in Nick's ears and while it outwardly seemed as though the two teens were perfectly calm about the whole situation, their body language betrayed them.

"Just stay here," said Nick. He put the beer back on a coaster and the _clink_ of the bottle had turned out to be the only noise in the house. Juliette had turned off the stove and nothing was simmering in the kitchen. She was on edge too. "It's probably Bud."

Even to Nick, the explanation wasn't the most probable one and it was unlikely Bud would drop by after having discovered the extended stay of the Wesen King. No Eisbiber in their right mind would seek out a superior Wesen. But then again, Bud had approached a Grimm.

The couch was barely visible from the front door but the right side - with an indent of Nick's butt and a half-drunk beer - was the only thing anyone would be able to see without stepping further into the house. Something that wouldn't happen if Nick had anything to say. Juliette was somewhere in the kitchen but Nick could hear her breathing.

With one hand on the butt of his gun, Nick opened the door.

Two men in fed suits stood tall - at least one of them did - and the other was only a tiny bit shorter than Nick himself. The shorter one looked older; a bit rough around the edges and with a stubbly chin, face set in a grim grimace and eyes locked on Nick's own. The taller one was undoubtedly younger; long hair pulled back and slick with grease but his face held a certain kindness Nick hadn't seen in a long time.

"Are you Detective Burkhardt?" Asked the shorted one. Nick nodded but didn't open the door further. The man went on, clearly not put off by his obvious _stay away_ vibe or the feds were just getting dumber with each passing year. "I'm agent Shatner, this is agent Nimoy." A jab to the taller guy identified him as Nimoy.

"Is it possible to come in or are you going to guard the door all day?" It was an indirect challenge from agent Shatner and Nick dropped his hand from the butt of his gun, opening the door a crack further to let the agents inside.

"Make yourself at home, but please, I have family visiting so if you could behave and not hassle them too much …" Nick trailed off. If their beef was with him, there was no need to draw more attention to the two boys. Besides, there was no evidence the agents were the stalkers from the amusement park.

"Of course," said agent Nimoy. "We'll try to be subtle."

Nick snorted and he was sure the agents knew what he thought of them. A promise to be subtle meant they were going to ask the boys anyway and didn't give a damn about who they disturbed or upset with their questions.

"Are you always working this late or do you like to disturb people around dinner time?" Asked Nick. It wasn't the brightest idea to smartmouth two FBI agents, but if they turned out to be with the Royals after all, he would give them Hell in advance.

"Sorry, routine followups," said agent Nimoy. There was a hint of something apologetic but it was gone as quickly as it had come as soon as the two agents spotted the boys on the couch. Naruto was breathing heavily, hand still resting at his side and head on Sasuke's shoulder while the black-haired teen was watching the rugby game intently. Nick wasn't sure if the Uchiha knew the rules.

"Family, you say?" Asked agent Shatner. One eyebrow had risen at the sight of the teens and Nick hoped he could pawn off the same explanation he had used on Bud.

"Yeah, distant cousin and his boyfriend," Nick pointed at Sasuke, seeing as he was the one who resembled the Grimm the greatest and that there was an actual chance they were related.

Agent Shatner blanched at the mention of 'boyfriend' and choked out a hasty greeting along with agent Nimoy who looked more composed than his shorter counterpart at the information. "Erh, how do you do?" He stuttered. Sasuke blinked; once to tear his eyes from what was undoubtedly a game of something he could hardly understand and then again to look back at the game but not without effectively glaring at both agents without saying a word.

"You'll have to excuse Karasu, he isn't exactly the talkative type and Naruto used too much energy at the amusement park today," said Nick. Agent Shatner furrowed his brow but there was no obvious signs of confusion at the mention of the amusement park.

With a fake name there was a chance the two agents could be shaken off and despite everything, it was better than using Sasuke's real name, just in case these were the two agents Wu had spoken of. Choosing a fake name for the Uchiha hadn't exactly been an easy task, not with the Grimm having to come up with something on the spot and he wasn't that prone to Japanese. It had to be convincing and he remembered that one word from the Grimm journals. Luckily, Nick hadn't had to provide Naruto with a fake name. The blonde had nothing to fear as of yet with his lack of a police report.

"Yes, I have heard it's a good place for tourists," chuckled agent Shatner, oblivious to Nick's dilemma. It was more of a strained laugh and Nick found himself leaning a bit more on his hip with the gun. He hadn't mentioned his 'cousin' and his boyfriend were tourists to Portland and while their oriental heritage might have been the giveaway, it wasn't a good assumption to make when being part of law enforcement. Someone might sue you for calling them a simple tourist.

Agent Nimoy looked at Naruto and with a bright smile, he completely ignored the Grimm to his left. "What did you enjoy the most at the park?"

Naruto was reluctant to answer, the slight drawing of his legs a bit closer to his chest and the way he plastered on a toothy grin too fast, the only way to know if you hadn't seen him before. "The duck pond," said the blonde. "They had an orange duck," as if it explained everything. Agent Shatner took a moment to give Naruto the elevator stare and quickly found out just how much of a person could be covered in orange clothing.

"Who is it?" Shouted Juliette from the kitchen. Nick heard the water tap running and the dry sound of a towel against skin. She was trying to make it seem normal.

"Agent Shatner, agent Nimoy, this is my girlfriend Juliette," said Nick as said girlfriend strolled into the living room, one eye on the boys and another on the two agents. Juliette was careful as she shook hands with the two men who didn't look any older than themselves. The tall guy (Nimoy, she reminded herself) was definitely younger.

"Seeing as introductions are now formally complete, would you like to tell me what you are doing at my house?" Asked Nick. Agent Shatner looked taken aback by his blunt question but Nick's patience was running thin and it would only be so long before Naruto might freak out because of so many new people. It didn't help his 'Kyuubi control' had already been close to snapping earlier.

"Ah, yes," said agent Shatner. "Maybe it would be better if we took a seat?" Juliette nodded and gestured for them to follow her to the kitchen. Nick followed last, wanting to give both Sasuke and Naruto a small eye conversation before they disappeared completely from eyesight. The black-haired teen had stiffened but as soon as both his and Nick's eyes had locked, the Uchiha knew he was to keep up appearance and stay on guard. Something didn't sit right with these guys, no matter how friendly agent Nimoy seemed and how not FBI-like agent Shatner behaved.

The chairs scraped against the floor but neither of the four seated at the kitchen table reacted to the sound. The table was already set and agent Shatner looked as though he desperately needed somewhere to put his elbows, but the tableware got in the way and he was forced to keep his hands in his lap. Seriously, though, what FBI agent didn't have proper table manners?

"Yesterday evening we spoke with a colleague of yours - a Sergeant Wu I believe - and he was looking into a possible connection between several cases all tied together with that of an illegal immigrant you arrested earlier monday morning, am I correct?" Asked agent Nimoy, his voice strangely loud and booming but matching his height unlike the shorter guy with a gruffer voice.

"Yes," said Nick and leaned back in his chair. He did not like where this is going. "However, he was vouched for and is no longer part of the investigation,"

Okay, maybe that wasn't the whole truth but at least it was part of it, right?

"Are you saying you let an illegal immigrant go because he was _vouched_ for?" Asked agent Shatner.

"I believe I have already answered that question, agent."

"May I ask why your cousin looks familiar?" Interrupted agent Nimoy before a war of glaring daggers could properly ensue. Agent Shatner appeared to be more of the confrontive type while agent Nimoy was the one holding together the groups and coaching witnesses to tell what they may or may not have seen. Nick had seen it too many times himself, heck, even Hank and himself used that tactic if someone was too stubborn for the ordinary good cop, bad cop, coffee cup routine. It added a certain depth to their characters and many had fallen for it. Too bad Nick knew how to work around it and Juliette let him run the conversation.

"I don't know, you tell me."

Agent Shatner was ready to burst a blood vessel and his mouth was already opening, brain working furiously to form up a retort but agent Nimoy was faster.

"It's just that he looks strangely familiar to the immigrant you arrested on Monday." It was a direct offensive move and Nick smiled. They had played right into his trap, letting themselves feel comfortable because he was another cop; someone to be manipulated and twisted until they got what they wanted. Good thing the Grimm had taken lessons from a very insisting Renard.

"To my knowledge that report went missing," said Nick.

Agent Shatner started and with a brief glance at agent Nimoy, he faked a smile even a child would have been able to see through. "We spoke with Sergeant Wu before it was stolen and he showed us a picture."

There came a silence which didn't last long as Nick retorted in a heartbeat.

"I said the report was missing, not stolen, agent Shatner."

Agent Nimoy sighed, irritated by his partner's lack of both skill and tact despite an older age. "Look, I know this may be hard to understand, but that man is dangerous and if we don't catch him soon, he might hurt more people. We have reason to believe he is the one responsible for your cases on both Sunday and Monday, and an accomplice might have been the one to get a hold of the jogger," said agent Nimoy. Agent Shatner leaned back into his chair and Nick disliked the two more and more by the minute.

"Juliette, why don't you go check on the zucchini?" Asked Nick. Things were about to flare up no matter how much he didn't like it and didn't want it to go down in his house, but these guys were forcing his hands and he would be damned if Juliette got caught in the crossfire. Literally.

"Of course, Nick," she said. Juliette stood up from her chair and kissed Nick on the forehead. Even she found the atmosphere tense and strained. The kiss would work as a good luck charm as it had done so many times before and Nick hoped his luck wouldn't run out now.

Nick leaned over the table, hands neatly folded together in front of his face. "I know for a fact Wu would have told me if he had shown you the folder on Sasuke Uchiha, not to mention the fact that you said it was stolen while everyone else would have assumed it had been misplaced and was simply missing. Which leaves only one option; you were the ones who stole the file and replaced it after you had spoken with Wu and you figured I knew something which I may or may not know depending on how you are going to react," said Nick. It was a long shot but one that seemed entirely possible and judging by the stiffness of their shoulders, Nick had hit the nail and bashed it hard into the wall.

Unlike Nick's earlier assumptions, agent Shatner was the quickest one to react and the mask of FBI pretending fell from his face. "Either you let us get to that son of a bitch and take him down or we'll have to write in 'collateral damage' in our next report, and trust me, I do not want to do that." For one who looked like he could breathe fire with his strong temper, agent Shatner was unusually calm as he said it but Nick didn't doubt the truth behind those words.

"Are you working for the Royals?" Asked Nick. The whole situation could be sparked by the slightest movement but Nick was surprised they had managed to stay at the table and have a slightly civil conversation about handing over a teenager to two fake FBI agents who would probably kill Sasuke the first chance they got.

"What?" Asked agent Shatner, perplexed. "Royals? Who the heck are they?"

Apparently not.

"Then who do you work for?" Asked Nick. He was close to flipping the table and put some bullet holes in them himself.

"We don't work for anybody," said agent Nimoy. He was calmer than his counterpart and he seemed genuinely concerned about the possibility of more competition. "I understand how you might come to that conclusion, but I assure you, we are not working with anyone. We are indepent hunters most of the time."

"Hunters?"

Agent Shatner raised an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a confused frown. "Yeah, hunters. You know. We kill demons and stuff …"

"Demons?"

"Are you just going to repeat everything I say?"

"Clearly not everything," said Nick. "But I only know about Grimm and Wesen, so if you would kindly enlighten me about this fascinating subject of demonic worshippers and how the world might end if I don't do as you say, then I'll be happy."

If agent Nimoy had been the fuse and agent Shatner the dynamite, Nick was sure they would both have blown up right then and there. The Grimm's short monologue had been insulting in some way or another but Nick didn't care at the moment. Renard had given him a job to do and these two fake agents in front of him were preventing him from doing just that.

"If I were you I would leave Portland before someone got hurt. Both of those boys are under the protection of the Prince of Portland, the Lodge, and me, the resident Grimm. So either you scram or I'll send your heads back in a box to whatever return address I manage to find off your dead bodies." Said Nick. It felt strange to defend someone who had killed innocent people but the Grimm knew the King and his Guard were important. Not to mention, even if Naruto was killed because of his crimes, there would be a new Kyuubi to take his place and even more people might die.

"Hey!" Exclaimed agent Shatner. "In case you haven't noticed, he has already killed people and we are trying to prevent that from happening again."

"So that's what you are doing. Saving the world? Do you even know what you are dealing with or did you come knocking down my door without a plan?" Asked Nick. He couldn't hear Juliette in the kitchen anymore and the rugby game had been replaced with commercials about shampoo and betting sites. Sasuke and Naruto were listening in on their conversation just as much as Nick was listening in on them. All parties in the house were holding their breaths, waiting for the bomb to go off.

"You said both of those boys. Not just one of them," said agent Nimoy. Unlike agent Shatner he was still calmly seated, hands in his lap and the only sign of his anger mixed with a great deal of curiosity was the flaring of his nostrils. If Nick hadn't been interviewing so many suspects over the years, he would have guessed the man was the epitome of calmness.

"Yes," said Nick. He knew he had screwed up. Had let himself be riled up and played into the others' hands. Now it meant he had to worm his way out of it. "They are both under our protection and if you so much as dare to lay a finger on either of them, I'm pretty sure the other would gladly rip you apart before we got the chance." Having openly admitted that both Naruto and Sasuke had been involved wasn't the brightest move but it might calm down the two agents' apparent willingness to save other people in the 'monster's' near vicinity. Not to mention all Hell would break loose if Naruto was removed from Sasuke and vice versa.

There was a slight creak of the couch, subtle, but enough for Nick to hear. And then there was a whizzing; a loud high pitched noise of something breaking and then scraping against wallpaper before coming to a halt, lodging itself firmly into the plaster wall separating the kitchen from the living room.

Agent Nimoy and agent Shatner rose with such force and deliberate quickness, Nick was surprised they didn't knock down the chairs they had been sitting on. Within two flat seconds, both of them had guns drawn and Nick reached for his own.

There was no mistake. The whizzing was the sound of a bullet tearing through air to reach its target and Nick was surprised Juliette hadn't screamed yet. Or she was simply not aware someone had tried to shoot the boys in the living room. Again.

The smooth handle from his gun gave Nick some comfort as he rushed into the living room, the two fake agents hot on his heels. He was sure that for now, they hadn't been the ones to fire the shot and that it was likely to be someone else. Which usually meant Royals were in town and that did not sit well with the Grimm. He could deal with a King and his Guard, and maybe even a bit of a bastard Prince, but he wasn't so sure he could handle any more.

The creak Nick had heard from the couch had been Sasuke moving to get away from the bullet before it could penetrate the poor stuffing of the couch and the black-haired teen had successfully pulled Naruto down on the floor with him. Or so Nick guessed.

Naruto was the only one left on the floor and Nick heard the door thrown open before he saw the retreating back of Sasuke disappear in the doorframe. The Grimm kept his gun out, just in case, and with a watchful eye on the two scowling agents, Nick made his way over to the blonde.

The boy wasn't breathing as hard as he would have if he hadn't been subjected to the catnip treatment and Nick was grateful that the blonde had remembered to take his medication as soon as they had gotten back from the amusement park.

"Shouldn't you help?" Asked agent Nimoy and vaguely pointed his gun in direction of the open door. The wind was howling - not an uncommon thing in Portland near winter - but the cold seeping through the opening was something Nick didn't appreciate. The cold didn't bother him much, not since he felt less warm anyway, but Naruto was already shivering on the floor. Both of his eyes remained crystal blue. No Kyuubi influence despite a shooting incident, Nick had to hand it to the teen.

"No. I don't trust the two of you and I don't want to come back and see Naruto dead on the floor and you missing," said Nick.

"Whoa! Okay, okay, we get it!" Said agent Shatner, wildly waving his gun around as he made a placating gesture and gave the Grimm a smile Nick doubted was genuine.

Sitting down beside Naruto, Nick made sure he became a barrier between the two agents and the blonde. "Juliette?" He called.

"In here!" Came a voice, distinct enough to be connected with Juliette. It came from the kitchen. "Can I come out now?"

Nick frowned. The door was still open, Sasuke was missing, Naruto was shivering on the floor, the two fake agents had guns cocked and ready and Nick had not once let go of his own gun. "No." Said Nick, softer this time now that he knew where his girlfriend was hiding. She didn't question his judgement and Nick was pulled from his musings when Sasuke stumbled back in through the door.

"Got him," said Sasuke.

Nick had suspected Sasuke would come in covered in blood and grime after a violent fight but the teen was strangely clean and void of anything that could be considered aftermaths of a fight. The one who had suffered the most was the man being dragged behind the black-haired teen.

Sasuke had one foot of the man slung over his shoulder and the poor fellow had taken a few jabs to the head as Sasuke forced the rest of his body over the porch steps and into the living room. A few of his teeth were missing - Nick guessed it had something to do with Sasuke - and most of his clothes had been torn in so many places it barely looked like a heavy winter jacket or a warm pair of trousers. Nick suspected this was also due to the Uchiha.

"Is he conscious?" Asked Nick.

"He should be in a second," said Sasuke and let go of the foot before it proceeded to plunge into the wooden floor with a dull sound. Broken bones, if the Grimm was not mistaking.

The man groaned and baby blue eyes fluttered open.

In the time span that it would have taken a person to scan his surroundings, the man gave an indignant squawk of pain and his face shifted into a pile of feathers.

"A Raub-Kondor," mumbled Nick.

"What?" Asked agent Shatner. The shorter man had yet to put away his gun but he didn't point it at the man on the floor either. There was no need; Sasuke was doing a fine job keeping the Wesen grounded by himself. And judging by the two fake agents reaction, it hadn't been a full woge for everyone to see although Nick suspected Sasuke was seeing the same thing as him, the red eyes a dead giveaway.

"Are you working for the Royals?" Asked Nick, squatting down to eyeheight with the suspect. Or perpetrator, however you wanted to look at it.

For once, the Wesen on the receiving end of Nick's questions did not yell out or cause a big commotion at the sight of a Grimm so casual and still, somehow, forceful.

Blue eyes narrowed and the man hissed, slowly but clear enough for Nick to hear despite the words coming out of a beak instead of a mouth.

"Long live the crown!"

And then he bit down on his own tongue. Hard.


	11. One Feathered Beak Speak Many Tongues

**And so the Naruto Manga came to a conclusion. Scroll down to the bottom for a rant on the leaked chapter 699 & 700.**

**With that said, enjoy. We have officially reached the halfway mark. 200 pages to go people :D**

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><p>One Feathered Beak Can Speak Many Tongues<p>

Chapter X

"I swear something fishy is going on," said Dean.

"Are you sure it isn't the pie from yesterday?"

"Shut it, Sammy!"

Normally, the living room wouldn't have been too crowded with two people occupying the sofa and the rest on chairs around the coffee table, but the room felt oddly small with six people in it. Not that Nick and Juliette looked that scary, and while Sasuke usually held a face which could scare away a vampire, Naruto softened him up enough to not be much of a threat in case you had never met any of them before. But then again, Sam and Dean weren't exactly the softest people to look at, especially if you are trying to make heads and tails of another assassination attempt.

"Let me just get this straight," said Dean and pointed sharply at Nick who leaned further back in his chair at the obtrusive finger. "You're a Grimm. You're girlfriend is human. Fluffy over there-" Naruto tried to glare but couldn't muster up enough strength and let the nickname slide. "Is actually a nine-tailed fox. Chuckles is his boyfriend and sort of a human Guardian?"

Nick nodded, as did Juliette. Naruto outright laughed as Dean casually called Sasuke 'Chuckles' and got away with it.

"And the two of you are independent hunters with no connection to the Royal family and you generally try to help people? And your names are Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"Yes," said Sam. He himself had a little trouble understanding everything, but it turned out their newest case was way more complicated than they first thought. And if God, Lucifer and angels existed, then why not a friendly subspecies of all the creatures in their dad's old journal. Would make a lot of sense actually, thought Sam. He just wished Dean was as open to the idea as he was.

"This doesn't make any sense," protested Dean. "All this time everything has pretty much been in black and white and now you are telling us the bad guys aren't necessarily bad guys?"

"Come on, Dean, it's not like you didn't think different of Benny."

"Don't drag Benny into this."

Sam rolled his eyes but Nick noticed the difference in his posture. Whoever this Benny character was, him and Sam didn't get along well. The Grimm sighed.

The whole thing right after the incident had gone by quickly. A quick phonecall to Renard had given him somewhere to dump the Raub-Kondor after they had been unsuccessful in stopping the man from bleeding to death after having bitten off his own tongue. Dean and Sam had proven to be useful then, both taking a good load of the responsibility and helping Nick get rid of the body. Sasuke had stayed back at the house with Naruto and Juliette, leaving them to clean up the floor and Nick was glad Juliette could handle a bit of blood. Okay, maybe not a bit, but her experience at the clinic had left her hardened in both mind and body and willing to cover up what was clearly a crime scene.

After that, it had been rather uneventful.

Sam and Dean had salted and burned the corpse (apparently it was a requirement when disposing of dead bodies?) and then returned with Nick to his house and get some answers. Turned out both of them had given fake names and occupations - not that Nick was surprised by that, they seemed like terrible liars - but it felt rather nice to have them openly admitting they were wrong about their whole 'shoot first, ask questions later' policy.

Naruto and Juliette had eased up a bit after hearing the two Winchesters weren't there to actively try and kill everyone in the house. Sasuke, though, was a completely different story.

The black-haired teenager whom might smile from time to time, despite there being other people, had clammed up again and even Naruto had been on the receiving end of a rather vicious scowl more than once since the Winchesters had taken over the couch while Nick tried to explain the situation to them.

Thankfully, they had taken the whole explanation startlingly well. Nick suspected it had something to do with the fact that both of them were already accustomed to the world of supernatural beings but Nick wouldn't have put it past anyone to still freak out.

His phone was buzzing.

Nick furrowed his eyebrows and grudgingly got out the piece of electronic equipment and frowned at the caller ID. The screen was alive with big block letters spelling out: _CAPTAIN_.

Wasn't Renard supposed to not call him back after having disposed of a body?

"Nick here," said the Grimm and clutched the phone close to his ear. The room turned silent as one by one they realized Nick was on the phone, Sam and Dean muttering things that soundly oddly like _vampirate_ and _purgatory_, whatever that was.

"Nick. Thank God you picked up," Renard sounded oddly relieved and not like his usual 'I don't actually give a crap about you' voice. Things had just turned ten degrees weirder if that was even possible. "I just got off with some of my contacts from Vienna and as far as they are concerned, there is a high chance my dear cousin Viktor is working with someone else."

Nick felt his stomach drop below the floor. Viktor was enough of a menace as it was and having the Crown Prince of Kronenberg in the cahoots with an unknown force was not something Nick was wishing for for Christmas this year. Scratch that, the Grimm wouldn't want that any year.

"Do you have any idea who?" Asked Nick. His throat had gone oddly dry and his tongue was behaving on its own, refusing to properly speak the words Nick wanted to say. The question had most likely come out as a squeak, but it was as much as Nick could muster at the moment. The truth of Viktor working with someone else was enough to put the Grimm more on edge than necessary and he couldn't think of anything he wanted to know more at that instant than who the new factor in their equation was.

"Unfortunately not, but I do hope you will take care of both you and the others for now. I'll see what I can do about the obvious lack of information from my usual spies, it's putting me off." Nick knew it was supposed to be the end of the conversation but the Grimm couldn't stop himself before another question slipped from his mouth. Typical, his brain was acting on its own again.

"Do you know what they are after?"

There was an uncomfortable silence from the other end of the phone and Nick wondered for a brief moment if Renard had lost his connection.

"I have a feeling Viktor is going after the keys," he said. "After all this time, why chose now to act upon the knowledge that you have another key? I'm thinking it's not a coincidence no matter how much we wish for it, and I fear our new friends have something to do with it."

"Naruto and Sasuke?" The two of them perked up at the mention of their names and neither of their faces held any confusion at their sudden involvement in the conversation. Cheeky teens had been listening in on them. Not that Nick could blame them, he would probably have done the same.

"Yes, I fear their arrival and the increase of 'accidents' involving the Royals cannot be a simple coincidence."

Nick breathed out through his mouth. He had feared as much but the fact that there were nothing but incentives had allowed the connection to slip from his mind. Renard, however, appeared to have had the same thought and they could no longer deny that the two things were related.

"I understand. But I request some more time to research this properly," said Nick. The involvement of the two teens and Viktor's apparent willingness to acquire Naruto sent up warning flags. And staying in Portland meant bringing the battle to everyone he cared about. Nick wasn't willing to risk that. "I'm going to check if the Raub-Kondor left anything behind by accident."

"Good," said Renard and Nick was close to hanging up when the man spoke again. The room oddly quiet despite the number of people. "And Nick, keep an eye on the newest addition to the team." Was all the Captain said before Nick's ear was greeted with the shrill _beep_ of an ended conversation.

The Grimm knew what the Captain meant. While the arrival of Sam and Dean Winchester had been both unfortunate and lucky at the same time, the amount of coincidences in Portland were getting way too high. If it turned out the two brothers were somehow related to Viktor and Nick had let them in on their secrets, all of them were in danger from more than one enemy. Not to mention Renard would most likely take it upon himself to sort out the mess and let Nick know how much he had failed him by confiding in the two Winchesters. Yes, the Grimm wouldn't put it past his Captain to do just that.

"So," said Dean, easily reading the atmosphere completely wrong and his voice - raised to a sharp whistle as to ease some of the tension in the room - penetrated Nick's somewhat mellow mood. Dean seemed like a nice guy, and so did his brother if their previous actions were anything to go by.

The conversation back at the dinner table hadn't been the most pleasant one, but Nick had seen the two of them angry at the thought of not being able to help someone who clearly didn't understand what a dangerous situation they found themselves in. Too bad the 'monster' was a teenager under both Royal and Grimm protection.

"I'm guessing we're going to take a look around and see if we can get anything from that hitman?" Asked Dean. Sam didn't say anything but by the slight tap of his finger on his kneecap, Nick knew the giant was thinking the same as his brother. Nick didn't doubt the taller man would have voiced the question differently but he had no objections letting his older brother lead.

"You won't get anything from outside," said Sasuke. He was sitting close to Naruto but only their shoulders were touching. The Uchiha was glaring at Dean who was all too willing to return the favour. Wisely enough, the four other people in the living room stayed out of the battle and Dean didn't break the eye contact until Sam nudged his brother with an elbow.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because I made sure there was nothing left," said Sasuke. His eyes were practically glowing red and Nick had to wonder if Sasuke was somehow connected with the Kyuubi part of Naruto as well. "The guy was a professional and so am I. We don't leave anything behind."

And just like that, the hope of finding something that could give them a lead diminished until there wasn't even a flicker of anything left in Nick's chest.

"Fine then, but I still vote we try to find something," huffed Dean.

Sasuke clenched his jaw but refrained from commenting on the oldest Winchester's idea. The guy wouldn't give up and Sam wisely stayed out of the conversation.

"Wait a second," said Juliette. It was her first time speaking up since they had gotten back from dumping the body and she brightened up as something crossed her mind. "He fired a bullet, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," said Sam. For some reason, the giant also gained a look of utter mischievousness that neither Nick or Dean could somehow grasp. Sasuke was content enough glaring at Dean and Naruto was busy trying to make his boyfriend act less hostile.

"What about the bullet?" Asked Nick. He was tired of seemingly everyone else getting to the same conclusion as Sam and Juliette except him. And then it hit him. The bullet hadn't gone clean through and while Nick hadn't seen the bullet hit, he had heard it. It had scraped against the plaster wall until it could no longer maintain the same speed and slowed until it had become stuck. Which meant they still had the bullet.

Nick flew up from his chair.

From where he had been sitting, it hadn't been hard to spot the hole. Barely an inch wide, the hole was nothing more than what could have been a squashed bug on their wallpaper but to Nick it was clear as day. The shallow dip and slight hint of gunpowder just around the edge gave it away. If he hadn't been looking for it, he wasn't sure he would have noticed.

The bullet's original path had gone through the sofa upholstery, right between where Sam and Dean were currently sitting, but it had torn through the fabric with ease and continued its path until it had hit the wall and come to a full stop. For once, Nick was glad they hadn't pushed the couch all the way back until it would have hugged the wall. It would have made everything a tad bit more complicated even with superhuman Grimm strength.

Sam and Dean twisted in the couch, eager to see what had gotten Nick's attention.

"What is it?" Asked Dean, one eyebrow raised as he watched the Grimm trail his fingers over the dips and shallows in the wallpaper. Nick wasn't quite sure how to get the thing out from their wall without completely destroying it.

"The bullet. I heard it connect with the wall but I don't know for sure how far in it is," answered Nick. It was clear the bullet hadn't gone through the whole wall or there would have been an exit hole on the other side. Nick was sure both the brothers and himself would have reacted to a bullet flying into the kitchen.

Nick stopped in front of what was obviously the entry hole and squatted. The downwards angle suggested the shooter would have had to have a decent height if he had shot from outside. It would only have been possible to reach such an impeccable trajectory by raising himself higher up from the ground and risk exposing himself to Nick's neighbours. The Grimm frowned.

Wouldn't it have made more sense to shoot with an upwards angle to avoid detection in the best possible way.

But then again, thought Nick, he hadn't been dealing with a Hundjäger or a Nucklavee this time around. It had been a Raub-Kondor which, in itself, is a species of bird and would therefore have taken to the trees as their primary shooting spot. Not that Nick could blame the guy, it was actually a pretty decent plan.

Which only served to remind Nick to cut down the tree next summer. He wasn't all too keen on the idea of Raub-Kondors hiding in his tree. Besides, it would take a great deal to explain what might have happened if he were to shoot a gigantic bird two o'clock in the morning only to have it change back into a human when the neighbours decided to come out because of something that would undoubtedly cause a lot of commotion.

The couch creaked behind him and Nick was effectively pulled from his musings as a shoulder gently butted him out of the way.

"Scoot over," said Dean and he leaned down to peer at the whole.

Nick was amazed the short guy could see anything at all without having sharpened senses but his amazement was brought to an abrupt halt as the man started to grumble. Crawling back on all fours, Dean maintained a kneeling position on the floor as he scratched his chin.

"It's too damn dark, that's what it is," said Dean but he didn't budge to let Nick take another look. "Sammy, hand me a flashlight."

Sam hunched over from what Nick could see (sitting on the floor behind the couch didn't provide the best line of vision, Nick had to admit) and the distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled open. Rummaging through what might have been a bag, Sam pulled out a rather big flashlight and handed it to his brother before closing the bag again.

The Winchesters hadn't gone into the house again as unarmed as before, now that they no longer had to pretend to be FBI agents. Nick, however, did have to agree with them that suits and duffle bags didn't mix all that well no matter how much you wanted it to.

The Grimm wondered what else might be down in the depths of the duffle bag but Dean turned on the flashlight and Nick became momentarily blinded.

"Whoa," he said, tilting a bit despite being situated on the floor. "Watch it there, buddy."

The Grimm still wasn't all that good with sharp lights after the whole 'fly eating grieving women' episode and the slight dying part hadn't helped on that part. Having a flashlight pointed directly at your head did nothing to soothe the pain in his eyes.

"Sorry," mumbled Dean, but to Nick, the short man might as well have told him what they would be having for dinner. Dean wasn't sorry at all but Nick bit his tongue. They had a bullet to find and rudeness didn't rule over the importance of that one piece of metal stuck inside his wall.

"I see it," announced Dean. He had lowered himself to the ground as much as he could and his eye was practically glued to the opening of the hole with the slightest hint of light from the flashlight shining in from the side, allowing the short man to get a somewhat better look at how far in the bullet had managed to lodge itself. "It's pretty far in, but not far enough to let us go in from the other side."

"Need a pair of pliers?" Asked Sam but even as he said it, Nick knew it wouldn't work. The hole wasn't wide enough to let them properly grasp the bullet and wriggle out the object.

"It wouldn't work," agreed Dean and he sat back again, turning off the flashlight before Nick could be blinded again.

"Then what?" Asked Sam. He had twisted his body just enough to let him gaze behind the couch without pulling a muscle in his neck.

"How about you let me handle it," said Naruto. Nick rose from the floor and shot the blonde a sceptic look. Nick would have guessed the black-haired teen would have been glaring disapprovingly at Naruto, but instead, the Uchiha held a rather proud smirk on his face.

"And what are you gonna' do? Run down the wall and rip it to shreds?" Asked Dean.

Nick winced. That was a low blow, and completely uncalled for.

"No," said Naruto. The blonde hadn't as much as winced at the insult but merely waved it off and continued as though Dean hadn't just pulled out some highly unpleasant memories. "I'm going to show you how it's done. So you sit back and relax, _Fluffy_." The last part was said with a growl but not one of those Nick couldn't bear to hear. It was completely Naruto and somewhat lacked the ferociousness of the red eyes that would often accompany the sound. The Grimm felt pride swell in his chest as well. Naruto had come a long way since the murderous fox in the abandoned warehouse. The blonde had proven to be in control and he was getting better by the minute. This display of power only served to further prove it.

"Sheesh, no need to bite my head off," said Dean and he tossed the flashlight at the blonde who caught it without as much as a blink. If the Winchester had tried to scare the blonde with a sudden movement, it hadn't worked.

Nick almost felt like laughing. All four of them, Sam, Dean, Sasuke and Naruto, were caught in what appeared to be a blurring line of the hunter versus the hunted. It was funny to see how the two pairs tried to rile up the other only for the others to have a better comeback and the circle would start again. Not that Sasuke said much but his eyes spoke of a whole different story.

"Trust me, if I had wanted your head, I would have had it by now," said Naruto with a chuckle. The laugh was warm and good humoured but it didn't stop Dean from sinking a bit further into the sofa as his butt hit the seat beside his brother who scoffed at his childishness.

Nick decided to keep his position on the floor. He was rather interested in seeing how Naruto would deal with the bullet without any tools at all.

The blonde set down the flashlight. Nick knew it wasn't needed.

If their previous experience was anything to go by, Naruto had many of the same abilities as himself and the flashlight would only serve to irritate their eyes more than they already were. A plaster wall wasn't the best of things to stare at over a lengthy period of time and Nick's own eyes had begun to blur from not looking away enough.

To the Grimm's surprise, Naruto didn't look into the hole at all, but merely put one finger to the opening and Nick watched as a thin thread of orange started to materialize in midair. No thicker than an ordinary line of thread, it wormed its way into the hole.

"Showoff," muttered Sasuke.

Naruto gave a laugh but didn't remove his gaze from the hole. "You're just jealous Kankurou taught me how to make chakra strings," argued the blonde.

"Whatever makes you feel better." It was said without venom and Nick could only fathom how much had really happened between Naruto and Sasuke to make them so dependent of each other. For all the harm and punches, everything they said could be read as something rude but behind every word, there was something much kinder. It was the strangest relationship till date but a relationship nonetheless.

There was a sound, much like something sliding out of a pocket and landed softly on the ground or a carpet but Nick could only imagine what was happening inside that hole. Naruto had stuck out his tongue in concentration and Sasuke had yet to comment on how much trouble the blonde seemed to have over this 'chakra string' thing or whatever Naruto had called it.

The stream of orange continued to pour into the hole and with one particular harsh tug, Naruto tilted backwards and from the end of the transparent string came the bullet in all its smashed up glory. It had been jammed so hard into the wall that the nose of the bullet had all but bent and the end looked as though a smoothie had exploded only to have been paused in midair. It was a wonder Naruto had managed to squeeze the whole thing out of the wall without damaging the structure of Nick's house.

For a second, the Grimm was quite glad they hadn't needed to pull out a sledgehammer and tear down the wall. Poor house had already been exposed to way too many threats and most of those had been carried out. Or when someone had decided to attack them in their house, just like now. One house can only resist so many Siegbarste.

"Got it," said Naruto from where he lay on the floor, looking upwards towards the ceiling. The bullet landed squarely on his chest after the short flight in midair and the blonde groaned as he shuffled to sit up, legs bend in a lotus position.

"Now let's see what we have here …" Naruto twisted and turned the bullet in his hand, fingers tracing over the parts that had been so badly damaged they were hardly recognizable. When the blonde's eyes couldn't find any faults with the design, he turned to Sasuke and threw the bullet at his darker haired counterpart.

"There's something on the nose but I can't make out what it is," said Naruto. The blonde got up from the floor and moved so he could plop down next to Sasuke and prop his head on the other teen's shoulder. Sasuke grunted but didn't protest as he did the same thing as Naruto had done; feeling the bullet and every stray line there might have been formed after impact.

"You're right," said the black-haired teen and frowned. There had been something engraved in the bullet's snout but it had been too heavily damaged to properly figure out just by looking. The metal was smashed to unrecognizable shapes and blobs, and the hopes of making anything out were less than zero.

"Nice job," added Dean, his voice sarcastic from either the loss of hope that they might have been on to something or the fact that the teens had managed to do something he and Sam hadn't. "But how is that important if we can't figure out what was _on_ the bullet?"

Sasuke scoffed and Naruto's head slid off his shoulder but the blonde caught his own head before it could hit the floor. "Don't underestimate shinobi. Especially not an Uchiha," he said. The black-haired teen blinked and when he opened his eyes again, they had turned to their blood red with swirling commas. The Sharingan, if Nick remembered correctly.

Sam and Dean shivered. While Sasuke had been close to using the Sharingan on Dean before, this was the first time either of them saw it in its full glory and Sasuke was thoroughly enjoying whatever fright he had instilled in them.

Shifting his gaze from the Winchesters, the Uchiha looked at Nick.

"Do you have a pen and paper?" He asked. Nick nodded and scooted off to find the requested materials. If not for his insane hobby of drawing every Wesen he had seen (which reminded him, he had yet to draw Naruto) he would, admittedly, have had a hard time finding any scraps of paper in the house that could have been used for any sort of drawing. The nearest drawer held both an ink pen and a blank sheet of paper ready for use.

Sasuke accepted the paper and with one hand, he traced over the design on the nose of the bullet while the other hand skimmed over the paper. Ink flew as his hand found itself drawing a shape Nick hadn't seen before in the context of firearms.

A star.

On the nose of the bullet, there had been a star.

Sasuke blinked and his eyes once again turned to their deep pools of black, one hand dropping the pen and grabbing the paper instead.

"A star?" Asked Naruto over his shoulder.

Nick had the same question. Why would a star, of all shapes, be engraved in a bullet aimed at the Wesen King? It didn't make any sense to him and it appeared to be the same with the two teens.

"A cloud I could understand - Hell even numbers - but why a star? Hoshigakure isn't involved in this," said Naruto. Sasuke shook his head.

"Dobe, see how the line intertwines? Hoshigakure's sign doesn't do that," he said. Naruto tilted his head in confusion and grabbed the paper from the black-haired teen.

"Does anyone have any idea what it means?" Naruto held up the piece of paper so everyone could see and while Juliette shook her head and Nick found himself doing the same thing, the two Winchester brothers had turned oddly quiet.

"What?" Asked Nick. It was odd for both Sam and Dean to stay quiet when a question was directed at them and somehow, it unsettled the Grimm that the two men now wore pale faces that didn't suit either of them.

At last, Dean seemed to find his voice again. "Crap," he said. His eyes didn't stray from the paper and even when Naruto put it down again, the short man's eyes stayed glued to the surface where it had once been.

"Abaddon," was all Sam said.

Naruto shifted to a more comfortable sitting position. "Who?"

Sam cleared his throat and with a vague gesture towards what could have been the room or just the general path towards the bloodstain they had removed after the Raub-Kondor had died. The giant's face took on a sorrowful expression.

"Abaddon," he said again. "She's a demon. A powerful one at that. Which means that if she is here and she has something against Naruto, you are in to way over your heads."

"Hold on a second," protested Nick. "Are you suggesting a demon is working together with the Royals?"

"I'm pretty sure that's what my brother is trying to get to, yes," said Dean. The fearsome warrior who had proudly salted and burned the body of an assassin in the dead of night suddenly didn't look as confident as he had been.

"And this helps us how exactly?" Pushed Nick. Having to deal with the Wesen King and now demons were way above his paygrade. Renard was going to pay for sticking him with protection duty. That bastard Prince was definitely not dragging his load.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, much like Sasuke and Naruto had once done when they had been unsure how much they should tell before they got too knee deep in shit.

"All I can say right now is that we need to get you to a safehouse," said Sam. "And we have just the place."

* * *

><p><strong>Rant on chapter 699 &amp; 700 of Naruto. (Spoilers, duh).<strong>

**God, I was so disappointed when the chapters were finally leaked. I had such high hopes but the ending was just… flat. After 15 years, the manga could have been sensational if Kishimoto had dared to take a _chance_, instead of going with the ending everyone had predicted since volume six. With that said, I am a sasunaru shipper and I am terribly annoyed at the fact that there had to be couples in the end. It would have made a much bigger emotional impact if Sasuke and Naruto had both died or they would have left the ending open from about halfway through chapter 699. But no, Kishi be trolling - teasing us for so many years that this manga might break the norm and actually include a queer pairing in the end. It's not that I dislike naruhina (I do hope the movie will come with a plausible explanation, though, or else…) and I may even learn to live with it, but sasusaku? Honestly!? But then they had to go and include the children. And all of a sudden, people start shipping Bolt and Salad girl simply because the pairing is heterosexual…**

**I have spent the last two and a half years doing queer theoretic reading on several different texts and movies, and Naruto is by far one of the series I enjoy analyzing the most. Which is why I think it's sad that there had to be such a close minded ending in regard to pairings… I won't start a shipping war, but I think the evidence pointing towards naruhina and sasusaku has been exceptionally vague... I also personally enjoy Sakura and Hinata as characters, especially during the Shippuden arc, but chapter 700 undid all the hard work put into (mainly) Sakura's character development :(**


	12. Letters Can Be Rearranged

**I have an unhealthy love for Shakespearean sonnets and so what if the third stanza doesn't rime, it's plot. Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>Letters Can Be Rearranged<p>

Chapter XI

The light was blinding in that weird 'I'm the sun so don't mind me shining' kind of way despite being underground in a bunker.

"Welcome," announced Dean loudly and waved his arms around. "To our secret hideout. The secret base of the Men of Letters."

Nick had no idea what Dean tried to say with the whole Batcave cryptic sentences but the Grimm was sure of one thing. Driving in a car for hours on end did nothing good for his screaming back.

Shortly after Sam and Dean had convinced the others that it was necessary to get out of Portland while they still could, another call to Renard had solved most of their imminent problems. Sasuke and Naruto would drive together with Sam and Dean in the Impala while Nick, Renard, Monroe and Rosalee had taken the Captain's car. (Dean had promised that if at some point Monroe wanted to go back and fetch his Beetle along with more medical supplies, the short Winchester would happily give the Blutbad a ride.)

At first Nick had been sceptic about leaving Juliette behind but Dean had convinced the Grimm it was the right thing to do. The further away she was from the fire, the less she could get burnt or get caught in the middle of everything. Renard had insisted he came with them, unsure about leaving his Grimm in the custody of two hunters he barely knew. Surprise, Nick had thought, Renard had known about hunters all along but had somehow failed to mention them. The Captain had also insisted they brought some sort of medical crew when the Winchesters had revealed they didn't have a specific doctor connected to their 'super cool' hideout. And once again, Nick had failed to be surprised when the choice landed on Monroe and Rosalee.

The Blutbad had been sceptic at first but seeing as they were the only Wesen they could completely trust with their lives, the two of them had had no chance of saying no. Besides, Renard had promised he would cover the expenses of having the spice shop close down for the time being and Nick didn't once doubt the Captain to not have the money to do so.

And so, they had left Portland in two cars and had only just arrived at the safehouse.

Beside the Grimm, Naruto gave a gasp of astonishment and Nick wondered if it was possible for those blue eyes to pop out of the blonde's skull from sheer amazement. Sasuke jabbed the blonde in the ribs and Naruto's gasp turned into a soft noise of irritation. Or was it a growl?

"This is where we will be staying most of the time while trying to figure out what Abaddon is up to," said Sam and Nick gave a small jump. Even though the man was a giant, he had perfected the art of sneaking up on people with super hearing, although Nick doubted Naruto and Sasuke would fall for Sam's soundless act. "The compound is quite big so there should be enough room for all of us. Besides the main hall, here, there is also a library, an archive, training facilities, sleeping quarters and a dungeon."

Naruto gave the giant an indrecolous eyebrow at the mention of a dungeon but Sam merely shrugged it off. "Don't ask." So they didn't.

"Am I to assume that by training facilities you have included firearms?" Asked Renard. He had been silent for most of the car ride and while Nick had found the silence quite comfortable, it had only served to put both Monroe and Rosalee a bit out of it.

Not that Nick could blame them. Renard could put almost every person on the planet out of it with a simple stare or simply by staying silent. The Grimm guessed it was merely a side effect that he had become immune just as Naruto was immune to Sasuke's glares.

"Yes," said Sam, referring back to Renard's question. "After we first got here we took the liberty of rearranging a few things to suit our needs a bit better and that one was on our list."

"And what about medical supplies?" Asked Rosalee. The Fuchsbau appeared jumpy and even Monroe was a bit more fidgeting than usual but their commitment to their craft overshadowed their fear of the hideout.

"To be honest, we only have the most necessary things to stop a bleeding but there are plenty of spare rooms so it shouldn't be too hard to set up a new facility," said Sam.

While they had been discussing, Dean had made his way down the stairs and Naruto wasn't far behind the short man.

"Yo, Kevin!" Called Dean through another door which Nick suspected to be the library judging by the large doors and the stack of books he could see from the corner of his eye.

Somewhat muffled behind a mound of books, the Grimm heard an oddly sound akin to light snoring.

"That would be Kevin," supplied Sam as the rest of them made their way down the stairs. "He's a prophet and sort of family."

"Oh," said Nick. That was weird. What did 'sort of' family mean and why did Sam look sad when he talked about Kevin?

A scraggly teenager with a stubble staggered into the main room, eyes blurry with sleep, and Nick looked at him in barely contained surprise. This was definitely not on his mind when Sam had mentioned prophet. A prophet wasn't supposed to be a teenager who was yawning all over the place and rubbing his eyes with a low growl barely contained in his voice as he shot Dean a look that was close to the Uchiha standards.

"Kevin, suck it up, we have guests," said Dean and patted the teen roughly on his back with so much force Kevin staggered and nearly fell face first onto the floor.

"Guests?" Asked Kevin and his eyes brightened, if not for a moment then at least for a second, as the teen looked at the newcomers in the room. Then the light was snuffed out and the teen had the look of someone who had just kicked his puppy.

"Sorry, Kevin. Not her," said Dean.

If Sam was confused by the statement, he didn't show it and Nick was tempted to think that the giant knew exactly what his brother was talking about but didn't elaborate to the rest of the group. So much for secrecy.

"Anyway, we do believe they might help us with the whole Abaddon situation seeing as she has taken an extreme interest in Fluffy and Chuckles over there-" a pointed finger at Naruto who growled at the short man. Sasuke decided to keep his dignity and not comment on the nickname. "And that over there is Nick, Renard, Monroe and Rosalee. They're going to help us sort out this situation before it gets even messier." Said Dean. Sam rolled his eyes and whispered something into Kevin's ear. The teen mouthed an '_o_' before he nodded.

Sasuke mentally sighed, glad Sam had taken it upon himself to correct his brother's nicknaming mistakes. The Uchiha wasn't sure he could have lived with himself if someone his own age decided to call him Chuckles. Not that Sasuke would let said teen get away with it alive unless it was Naruto.

"So congratulations, champ, you get people your own age to interact with," said Dean and somehow the conversation with Kevin ended at that.

"Come along, I'll show you where you are supposed to be sleeping," said Sam and inclined his head towards another door Nick hadn't noticed before. It was by far smaller than the doors leading to the presumed library but the opening was wide enough to let two people in at a time.

The door led to a corridor; a long and winding one with several other doors attached here and there.

Stopping in front of the first door, Sam tapped the on the surface.

"This here is my room. If you can't find me anywhere else, it's most likely you will find me in here," said the giant. Gesturing towards the room opposite his own, Sam continued his tour. "That's Dean's room. Don't go in unless you are prepared to face your worst nightmare."

Nick shivered, having a clear idea of what the 'nightmare' might be referring to. That Busty Asian Beauties magazine hadn't just been found in the trash when the two brothers had replaced it with the content of the manila folder. It had had to come from somewhere, which meant it had to have come from Dean. The Grimm couldn't bring himself to think it had been Sam who had brought it on a mission.

"Next one is Kevin's, although he's always in the library," continued Sam. Coming to a halt in front of the next room, Sam looked at Renard. "This will be your room Captain Renard. Closest access to me and Dean if need be."

"Thank you," said Renard but he didn't slip into his assigned room.

"Then we have a double room which I presume the two of you want?" Sam asked Naruto and Sasuke. The black-haired teen gave a smirk before nodding while Naruto beamed at the giant, eagerly awaiting the prospect of a proper mattress and not just a sofa bed.

"Monroe and Rosalee, the next one is also a double and then the last one is a single which will be Nick's," said Sam, concluding his short tour of what Nick had mentally dubbed the 'corridor' section. The walls were bare and held nothing truly personal but the Grimm could see why the brothers had chosen the bunker as their safe house. The whole defence systems they had going seemed impenetrable with all the sonars and other equipment Nick had never laid eyes on before. There was no doubt it was going to take a great deal of power to take down such a giant nest of tunnels and hidden escapes.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to go find Dean," said Sam and bid his farewells, leaving the gang to find their own way.

"I don't know about you guys, but man, could I use a nap right now," yawned Monroe and with a hand draped over Rosalee's shoulder, the two of them strolled into their room. Neither of them bothered to close the door, hitting a bouncing mattress with their bodies the moment both of them were in reach of the double bed.

"I think I'll do the same," mumbled Nick. Not that he was physically tired, but the long car ride had mentally tired him and he knew he would need energy later when they finally figured out what they were going to do about everything.

"I am going to skim through their library," said Sasuke as Nick vanished behind a closed door. Naruto appeared to have no objections but his eyes darted around every nook and cranny until the blonde had seemingly memorized them all as best as he could manage.

"Care if I join you?" Asked Renard. "I think I might go and check out the firearms department, but I am afraid I don't know my way around properly yet."

"Whatever," said Sasuke and the teen led the way out through the doors and into the main hall. Just as Renard expected, there were no people bustling about and his best guess would be the library to look for anyone who might know where to find anything in the maze the Winchesters called a safe house.

Naruto ran on ahead, nearly skipping in his steps as he knocked down the large double doors to the library.

"Jeez, dobe, don't tear the place apart just yet," argued Sasuke and the blonde stuck out his tongue in response.

Kevin sat at a table amongst a large pile of books surrounding him from nearly all sides but allowing his face to be seen only through a stack smaller than the rest. Another man sat a few seats away from the other teen, someone Renard hadn't seen before.

The man had a slight stubble, just like Kevin, but his posture looked uncaring with short hair and a loose tie. His eyes were squinted and brows knitted tightly together as he peeked in a book he clearly didn't understand.

"Oh, hello," said Kevin, tearing his gaze away from a particular interesting section in the book he was reading. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Actually yes, do you know where the training facilities the Winchesters spoke of are located? I would kindly appreciate if you could give me some directions," said Renard. He wasn't a man to ask for help unless he needed it but the underground bunker gave him the creeps. Something in this place didn't sit well with his Zauberbeist.

"Sure," said Kevin, slamming his book shut before looking in the direction of the unnamed man. "This is Cas, by the way - short for Castiel. Cas, say hi."

"Hi," said Castiel. He didn't raise his eyes from the pages of the yellowing book until Kevin gave him a poke in the shoulder.

"Cas, when you meet new people you are supposed to pay attention to them and shake hands. It's how you greet other humans."

Only then did Castiel look up and with a motion that appeared to be unnatural for the man, he stuck out one hand and waited for the three newcomers to shake it. Kevin sighed.

"Sorry about that, Cas is a fallen angel so he isn't all that up to speed on how you socialize with other humans yet," said Kevin. "Cas, you go show Renard where the training facilities are, alright?"

Castiel nodded and when Renard took a step forward, the other man got up from his chair.

"This way," said Castiel and swept out of the room with Renard following.

Sasuke and Naruto stayed in the library, both amused and slightly unnerved by the fact they had just met a weird angel.

Somewhere up ahead, from the little winding side tunnel Castiel and Renard had disappeared into, Naruto was sure he heard the two men talk about something called a trenchcoat and how much the angel missed having his own.

Now that was a conversation Naruto didn't want to overhear again. Shivering, the blonde decided that having fox hearing wasn't always for the better.

"Sasuke and Naruto, was it?" Asked Kevin and Naruto found himself paying attention to the other teen. He appeared to be somewhat of a foreigner just like them, but his accent didn't sound falty like their own. It was smooth when he talked and Naruto couldn't help but envy Kevin a little.

"Yes," said Sasuke. It was said through gritted teeth and Naruto could feel the spike in the Uchiha's chakra. It didn't take the blonde long to figure out what had put his boyfriend on edge.

Kevin was staring at _him_. The prophet was staring at Uzumaki Naruto and Sasuke didn't like it.

Naruto gave a short chuckle.

"You know what? I think I'll go explore and leave you two to read some books, okay?" Said Naruto. He didn't give either teens a chance to stop him before he had slipped out of sight. Sasuke had seemed about to protest but the blonde knew he needed to find out more about this place.

This bunker or safe house or whatever the Winchesters decided to call it, had something that lured him in and he was going to find out what it was.

"I guess that leaves us, then," said Kevin.

Sasuke didn't answer but grabbed the same seat Castiel had sat in not so long ago and looked at the book splayed out in front of him.

_A STUDY IN SOCIAL BEHAVIOR AND THE HUMAN NATURE_

The Uchiha would have laughed if not for the fact that the book was so much _Sai_ that it hurt.

"Any particular subjects you would be interested in?" Asked Kevin.

Sasuke had to hand it to the kid, he was at least trying to make a conversation. "Anything demon related would be helpful right now."

The other teen stood up from his chair and reached for one of the books on top of his many stacks. "Don't have much experience with them?" Questioned Kevin.

"Plenty," growled Sasuke. The Uchiha was sure there was something different with these demons than Naruto and research would only help so much, but at least it was a step forward instead of backwards like so many other things him and Naruto had gone through.

A leatherbound journal dropped onto the social behaviour book and Sasuke had to squint to read the title.

_THEORY AND IDEAS BEHIND THE DEVIL'S TRAP AND HOW IT IMPRISONS DEMONS_

At least the title left the rest of the book to be self explanatory.

"Naruto seems nice," said Kevin. The other teen had once again tried to indulge the Uchiha in small talk and Sasuke suspected it had something to do with the lack of other teens their age. Too bad he got stuck with an Uchiha.

"Yes, behind all the layers of hyperactivity and sheer stupidity," scoffed Sasuke. Might as well indulge himself in a bit of fun while it lasts.

"I take it you know each other well?"

"_Very _well," stressed Sasuke and for once hoped the other partaker of the conversation would get the subtle hint. When Kevin didn't respond Sasuke dared a small glance up from the dusty pages of the journal. The other teen was beet red and had buried himself in whatever book he had been occupied with before they had entered the library. The Uchiha smirked in triumph.

Yeah, that's right, thought Sasuke. Naruto was his, no doubt about it.

* * *

><p>Naruto felt a tug in his stomach.<p>

Somewhere just below his ribs and in the central naval area. Right where Kurama had once resided before the stupid fox had passed away and left him at the wheel.

The corridor he was in was deserted like so many of the other places he had gone to explore and the cold left something to be wished for. It wasn't that it wasn't exciting in itself to sneak around in a whole new place with a minimum risk of dying every time you stepped one foot out of line; it just wasn't as fun when it was risk free.

Naruto turned a corner - one that bent sharply and sloped down oddly at the same time - and the tug in his midsection multiplied by ten.

"What the hell?" Asked Naruto. He stumbled, caught off guard by the powerful pull and steadied himself with a clammy hand on the corridor wall. The blonde was glad he was still on the catnip mixture or else he might have had a panic attack right about now.

Considering the constriction in his chest, he might still have one.

"Okay, Naruto, breathe …" said the blonde. His breath was warm and clouds of puffy mist rose from his open mouth. "Breathe in, breathe out."

Naruto chanted and slowly the feeling in his chest washed away until only the tug in his belly remained. The blonde removed his one hand from the wall, swaying as he fought for balance and stumbled a few steps further down the slope. The air was mildly colder but not unpleasant and the cool sensation only helped his sweaty skin.

Shaking his head, Naruto walked down the slope.

Admittedly, not the brightest idea he had ever had, but the curiosity was just too great. Sasuke could rant about being stubborn and careless when he got back and found out exactly what was causing the uneasy feeling.

Naruto tripped again and his hand reached out for the nearest support. Which happened to be a door handle.

The blonde raised an eyebrow and immediately regretted the action. Just about anything was making him queasy. Perfect. And his stomach decided to rebel as well.

Naruto groaned.

It sounded like Kurama whenever Naruto didn't listen to him and he would grumble about the unfairness of life. And it was loud. Very loud.

Something stirred on the other side of the door. Something far beyond and deeply hidden but Naruto heard it; that sharp intake of breath indicating both pain and wonder about who might be there, who might visit someone such as it.

Whatever it may be.

Naruto frowned, hand still caught on the handle and his stomach roaring in protest but the blonde didn't move. The Winchesters hadn't seemed like the type to take prisoners so whatever the reason for someone to be in there, it had to be good.

Sliding open the door, Naruto was greeted by an excessive amount of boxes and stacks full of papers and records. Not exactly what he had expected but the blonde proceeded, the pull only getting stronger until he reached the back of the room, a towering wall somehow getting between himself and whatever was beckoning him, calling out to him.

It was strange. Naruto had somehow found himself believing for a short moment that whoever was calling him _was_ calling for him. Until he realized it wasn't the shinobi but the demon within being called. Someone knew about the Kyuubi and it didn't sit well with him.

"Is anybody there?" Called Naruto.

A hand on his shoulder and Naruto froze, eyes facing the wall.

"What are you doing back here?" Naruto relaxed again. It was Dean. Damn that nosy Winchester and his capability of being pretty much everywhere. The blonde spun around and fixed the man a glare worthy of an Uchiha.

"If you must know, I felt you were keeping something back from us and whatever it is, it's behind that wall." Naruto jabbed a thumb at the wall behind him but he kept Dean's gaze. By the look of it, the Winchester seemed rather surprised at the fact Naruto knew there was something hidden away this far deep and down. Heck, Naruto wasn't sure he would have found it if it hadn't been because he was the new Kyuubi.

"And how did you exactly come to that conclusion?" Asked Dean. His lips were curled at the edges, sort of like Sasuke when he would frown at Naruto and scold him for being impolite or screwing up a mission. Not that he did that often anymore.

"I didn't," said Naruto. "The Kyuubi part of me did."

Dean raised an eyebrow. This was the first time the blonde admitted to having a good deal of both trust and fear in this newly discovered part of himself. Both of the Winchesters had had to admit that such an idea as a demon 'locked up' inside a human baby had been ridiculous and highly impractical, not to mention the fact that the baby might have become possessed from the beginning. Sam had been the first one to throw a bottle of holy water at Naruto - which, much to the blonde's surprise, did burn him but not in the same way someone possessed by a demon should have. Dean had followed up with a latin incantation which had had no effect and the two Winchesters had dropped the argument after that, but not before scowling disapprovingly at Naruto who had been shaking his hair like a dog to get rid of the droplets of holy water.

Which reminded Dean not to take the blonde lightly or he might end up with a chewed off leg or arm - and he needed those.

Dean sighed, his head drooping down as he contemplated the pros and cons. If he left Naruto alone, there was a high possibility the blonde would continue his little escapade as though he had never been interrupted. And if Dean did tell what was behind that door, there was no way to tell how Naruto would react. Or Crowley for that matter.

"Okay, listen up kiddo. On one condition," said Dean. Naruto nodded eagerly, one eye already leaving Dean's stern gaze and the short man knew he had little time left before Naruto's attention would be completely gone, overtaken by what appeared to be a massive amount of natural curiosity. "I want you to go and get a hold of Sam, Nick, Renard and Sasuke. We'll be better off with some moral support on both our ends and I really don't want to explain it twice."

Naruto crinkled his nose. That was a condition that didn't seem to make much sense for the Shinobi. "Why?" He asked. Dean sighed, but answered his question nonetheless.

"Just do it."

Naruto groaned. Okay, not so much of an explanation but at least it was something. "Fine," huffed the blonde. "You better be here when I get back!" Called Naruto over his shoulder and before Dean had a chance to decode the hasty jumble of words, he was gone. Dean was sure the missing sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor only contributed to the seemingly impossible fact that the two teens were indeed deadly assassins.

Sam was the first one to join him in the smelly archive of scrolls and a stench of something long dead. No doubt part of Crowley's body odour seeping through the fake wall.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked.

"No."

"But we are doing it anyway?"

"Why not? They'll find out one way or another and sooner is better than later," said Dean. There was no point keeping Crowley hidden from the two new parties, especially since Naruto hadn't even been in the Batcave for one day before he had managed to sniff out the most dangerous 'thing' in the whole bunker.

"I guess you're right," sighed Sam. His hair fell into his eyes but Dean could hear the hesitation in his voice and there was no doubt his eyes would carry a hint of slightly concealed doubt. Even Dean felt it but he chose not to say anything. It was too late to change anyway, and besides, the kid deserved to know the truth about why his demonic side wanted him to go into a basement full of old papers.

If it was Dean, he would have freaked out the moment he found out he was no longer human.

A hand grabbed the side of the sliding door and a panting Naruto burst into the room.

"Found them!" He exclaimed and nearly toppled over as he tried to break off the last burst of speed he had attained from his wild swinging motion. The blonde was rapidly coming closer to colliding with the wall before another hand shot out and grabbed the back of his hoodie.

"Calm down, dobe. You're embarrassing yourself again," said Sasuke. The Uchiha looked unamused and Dean had to wonder how morning grumpy the teen could be. Apparently just disturbing him in the middle of the day from whatever it was he had been doing was enough for the black-haired teen to shoot sparks from his eyes. Dean held no doubt Sasuke was capable of setting things on fire by merely looking at them. Not something he was keen to find out.

"Let him have his fun," argued Nick who trotted in at a much slower pace, Renard hot on his heels. The Grimm chuckled as Naruto raised a hand to rub his throat and complain to Sasuke about how mean the other teen were. Turning to Dean, Nick cut right to the chase before Renard could, undoubtedly, utter the same question.

"Care to explain what this is about?" Asked Nick, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest. Something he had picked up from his many hours spend in the interrogation room.

"Look, this might as well be explained so you know it in advance before one of you-" a pointed look at Naruto. "Discover this by yourself and might get the situation wrong,"

Sam placantly held up his hands and interrupted his brother. "Whatever he says, you can't trust anything of it, okay?" For a short while, Naruto had a quizzical look on his face before he realized Sam hadn't been talking about Dean, but a third party they hadn't met yet.

"Okay," said Naruto, chirpy as ever while both Sasuke and Nick seemed reluctant to partake in whatever was about to happen.

"Just remember that no matter what he offers you or tells you, you can't trust him _no matter what_," stressed Dean and pulled aside the fake wall with ease.

A man sat bound in a chair. His head hung low with blood dripping from his lip and down onto what must have once been a pair of ironed pants. He cracked his neck and with a smile on his face, the man tilted his head towards Naruto. Bloody teeth glinted in the pale light but it did nothing to rival the happy glow that completely overtook the man's eyes as he spotted the blonde shinobi.

"Hello, cousin," said Crowley.

* * *

><p>Grinning.<p>

A pair of hands shaking on a deal well done and laughter and Craig. That God awful stuff Crowley just loved.

Naruto groaned and gripped his head.

Who the hell was Crowley. And why couldn't he breathe?

His chest was pounding, his heart erratic the moment those two words left Crowley's swollen lips. He didn't have a cousin, he would know. But then, why did the other man feel familiar? Why did Naruto remember him?

They had drunk together on more than one occasion, always the heart of a party and a good bottle of whisky unless it was younger than thirty years old. In that case, Crowley would complain about 'people who don't know how to properly serve good company' and they would go home. To Scotland.

Naruto felt like puking. Since when had he considered Scotland to be home?

It hit him. Quite literally, in the face.

A memory, slightly distorted by the natural passing of time but useful nonetheless. An image of him as a fox. As Kyuubi. With Crowley who had a hand slung around his shoulder and a merry laugh full of alcohol and other toxic things Naruto didn't dare guess at. But at the same time, it wasn't him.

The fox in that memory wasn't blonde like him, didn't have the same blue eyes when he was in full control of himself and it was certainly bigger than he was in his casual fox form.

Naruto would have cried out in joy had he not been in so much pain. It was a memory from somewhere deep down in his instincts. A picture of the life Kurama had led before attacking the village and being sealed within the first Hokage's wife. Before he had been condemned as nothing more than a pest who should not exist. A time before he had met Naruto and the two had developed a bond that had kept Naruto alive when Sasuke had left him to die in the rain.

"I - I know you … Don't I?" Asked Naruto. Damn his head hurt.

Crowley whistled a small tune before cocking his head and squinting his eyes. "Afraid not," he said. "But I did know your predecessor, if that's what you mean."

A tear slipped from Naruto's eyes. Kurama had warned him that if something triggered old memories in him, it would hurt like hell. With dread, Naruto had to agree to that statement although the blonde had half hoped it had merely been an exaggeration to make him listen more closely.

He was briefly aware of Sasuke holding him upright and Naruto had to wonder when his legs had caved in. He couldn't remember and Crowley had done nothing but stare at him and somehow taunt him. Naruto growled and swayed forward. Something about the man in the chair felt wrong. Or at least that's what he thought it was until Dean forcefully pulled him back.

"Woah," he said. "Don't wanna' come in too close. Devil's Trap and all that," Dean gestured towards the floor and Naruto's vision swam with lines and circles and symbols of red. "To be honest, we don't quite know how it might affect you yet, so we better not take any chances," he argued and Naruto had nothing else to say.

Even he didn't know if it was the sudden revelation about Crowley and Kurama that had made him slightly ill or if it had been the Devil's Trap he had almost stepped in.

"Kurama and I had some good times," said Crowley. Naruto had closed his eyes, too dizzy to keep focused but he heard the sarcastic voice loud and clear. "Oh, the things we did. You should have seen him in his prime, you know. A lot more efficient than a hellhound and boy, did he make my collection trips funnier than I had ever thought possible," Crowley trailed off. His wistful remembrance of long gone days did nothing but make Naruto more uncomfortable in the light of another memory.

Teeth ripping and snarling and animals screaming to a dying version of Mozart's sixth symphony. The groaning of metal and tearing of wood against stone.

This memory was more messed up than the first and Naruto had to wonder if Kurama had been deliberately trying to forget this or if time had simply had its course with this memory before it had tried to eat away the other.

Everything he saw was from Kurama's perspective and the blonde wasn't sure if he was still at the Batcave with the others. He could feel the grit and dirt under his paws and the smoke scorching his lungs. It took him less than a second to locate the source of this uncomfortable heat clinging to his fur.

There was fire, mainly surrounding himself, but also other people like him. People who changed both in face and personality. Naruto recognized a Blutbad and a Fuchsbau but there were so many he didn't know. All shapes and sizes and, God, even something that looked like it was half sabertooth tiger. And they were all fighting. Down to the last drop of blood in their bodies and Naruto watched them fall one by one.

Men in shining armor and crests he didn't recognize overtook his field of vision and he found himself gazing into a campfire. The sky which had been bright and full of sunlight had vanished and given way to clouds and dark skies. For some reason, it was hypnotizing and even though Naruto wanted to move from his hiding spot between a couple of bushes, he found that no matter how hard he tried to lift a paw and get away from these crazy people; it just wasn't happening.

This was different from the other memory. At least there he was watching as himself and he could move and look around as much as he wanted to. But this time he couldn't. He was trapped in Kurama's memory and everything that had happened to the older fox would happen to him as well.

Naruto didn't like it one bit.

Men swam into his line of vision but this time they weren't covered in blood. One was smiling, albeit crookedly, but Naruto felt himself relax. Or maybe it was Kurama who relaxed? Damn, thought Naruto, this was getting crazier by the second.

They were sitting around the campfire again, all of them. Naruto was leaning against the man that had picked him up earlier and he heard the another one hum. The vibration startled Naruto but he didn't pull away. Something about it lured him in, like the presence of Crowley had called out to him.

One by one, the seven men started to hum and slowly one broke out into song, coating the hymn with words that sounded as though the man was making them up as he went along. Naruto had no way of knowing if his guess was correct or not, but something about the words made the blonde concentrate harder than he had ever done before. The words were calling him.

_A map once lost,_

_Was found by a King,_

_To be safe at all costs,_

_Waiting for spring._

_A hidden Word of the One,_

_Sought out by the Demon,_

_If found there shall be none,_

_Beyond an unlikely allegiance;_

_But the one who sees,_

_The one who is,_

_The one who exists,_

_The one who knows._

_So long as the Word is sound,_

_So long shall evil be bound._

There was flash of light again and Naruto saw another man stand with something lumpy in his hand. Swatted in a piece of cloth was a tablet of some sort, all dirty and ancient and Naruto wanted to touch it. To protect it and keep it safe from the man in front of him. He didn't know why and he was probably never going to find out, but something urged him to keep that tablet safe at all costs. No matter who was trying to take it.

Naruto gasped and blinked. Something was choking him and drowning him at the same time. Falling back, Naruto landed on something hard and flung his eyes open once more.

Sasuke was bent down in front of him, concern evident on his face and Naruto found he was in control of his own limbs again. Coughing, the blonde tried to stand up but only accomplished a very unelegant fall on his butt and he remained on the floor.

Wait. Floor? Hadn't he just been outside listening to songs and getting his fur stroked in the moonlight?

"Naruto? Talk to me, dobe," said Sasuke. Naruto turned his gaze and blinked again, eyes slowly coming back into focus as his mind caught up to speed. He was still at the bunker, still standing - or should he say sitting - in front of Crowley with the others looking at the man still bound to the chair as though he had had something to do with Naruto's sudden collapse.

Which he sort of had, but who was Naruto to judge.

The blonde grabbed Sasuke's outstretched hand and hauled himself up but didn't let go. He still felt dizzy and standing up wasn't doing anything to help with that feeling.

"Taking a trip down memory lane, are we?" Chuckled Crowley.

"Shut it, Crowley!" Said Dean but Naruto couldn't help but stare.

"How did you know?" He asked. The blonde dreaded the answer and by the looks he was receiving from the others in the room, he hadn't reacted in the best of ways. And he still didn't have a clue as to what the others had witnessed him say or do while being in such an entirely different place as he had just been.

"Kurama did that as well from time to time. Said it happened whenever something triggered an old memory from the one who was before or something along those lines." If Crowley could have waved his hand at the notion of such a silly question, Naruto was sure he would have done it. "But enough of _that_; tell me, what did you see?" Crowley tried to edge the chair closer but it didn't budge and when no one else made an attempt at helping the man in the chair move closer to the blonde, Crowley pouted.

"War," said Naruto. Beside him, Sasuke stiffened and Naruto gave his hand a light squeeze. There was no reason for the Uchiha to think that it would have referred to anything else but their own war with Madara, but Naruto was sure that hadn't been what he had seen. "But it was more what I heard that put me on edge."

"Do tell," said Crowley. Dean looked one second away from physically removing the man's tongue from his mouth but Naruto answered before Dean could do anything drastic.

"Something about a hidden word and some sort of allegiance? Oh, and there was this tablet sort of thing, it looked really old." Naruto shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing like a ringing headache to mess with your thoughts that might actually matter just a tiny bit. Why else would the memories have happened with Crowley in the room?

Dean and Sam paled. Crowley smirked. Sasuke and Nick frowned in confusion while Renard looked oddly informed.

"Are you sure it was 'word' and not something else?" Asked Sam. His voice was cracking. "I mean, it could have been _anything_ that could have been mistaken for word, right?" Naruto didn't know who the giant was trying to convince but he was doing a piss poor job at it.

"Yes, I'm sure he said 'word' and not, I don't know bird?" Answered the blonde. Dean looked positively more sick than Naruto felt.

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Asked Renard. His voice was strangely calm and even though the blonde wasn't so sure it was a good idea to discuss such a thing in front of Crowley, he knew the quicker he answered the questions, the faster he could get to bed and sleep his exhaustion off.

"Now that you mention it, one of them looked kinda' like Nick," said Naruto. The man he had been sitting besides by the campfire could have been mistaken for a rougher version of the Grimm. If Nick had ever considered a beard, that was.

Frowning, Naruto realized something else. "And someone else looked a lot like you, too," said the blonde, directing the last bit of information towards Renard. The last man he had seen, the one who had carried the tablet had reminded Naruto of a smaller and more squat looking Renard, but their faces had been similar.

"I feared as much," said Renard. Dean sobered up.

"What do you mean you feared as much? What do you know about the Words?" He asked. Sam had kept quiet during the brief exchange of information but even the giant looked about ready to pop a blood vessel from stress. Crowley had kept up a particularly pungent smile with the occasional wriggling eyebrows directed at either Sam or Dean.

"Jacques Philippe Renard, my great-great-great-great-grandfather, wrote a song about what might be needed to find the treasure along with the seven keys but no one ever really considered it might be true," said Renard. He had raised one hand to fiddle with his chin while the other arm had snaked its way inside his trenchcoat.

"The Grimm keys?" Asked Nick. If Renard hadn't known the Grimm beforehand, he would have guessed the man to be easily frightened by something that most considered to be nothing more than a fairytale.

"Yes, those keys," said Renard. For once, Naruto wasn't the only one who looked like a giant question mark.

"Can somebody please explain what the hell Grimm keys are?" Moaned Dean.

"Yes, please do," chuckled Crowley.

"Shut up, Crowley," said Sam.

"Whatever you say, Moose."

Sam rolled his eyes but his attention never strayed. He had stayed oddly close to Crowley during the whole encounter and his hand had twitched every now and then. Naruto knew that sign best of them all; Sam was about one inch away from beating Crowley with his bare hands for every snarky comment the man had spouted during the time the two of them had undoubtedly known each other.

"However," interrupted Renard. The Captain had spotted the signs as well. "I'm afraid the song doesn't mention much beside a Word, which, quite frankly, I don't even know what means."

Crowley gave a chuckle that ended in a cough, the man spraying blood on the Devil's Trap on the floor and coating the concrete with more red colouring. "The Word means another tablet you complete moron," hissed Crowley.

Dean rounded on the man immediately. "I thought there was only three!"

"Think again, Dean," said Crowley. "And I mean, really, think about it. The angels only knew about three and even then it wasn't every angel. Not to mention that the only one who ever really knows about how many tablets there are, is Metatron. And let's admit it, we all know how he feels about everything." Crowley shrugged and managed to wipe his chin clean of any excess blood by bending his head and rubbing it against part of his suit. The man in the chair had the decency to look slightly hurt at the look of smeared red on his expensive suit, but he wisely kept quiet about his discomfort. Not like the Winchesters would buy him a new suit when he finally got out anyway.

"I am officially confused," said Naruto. Sasuke grumbled.

Nick took it upon himself to explain what he knew to the rest of their confused crowd. "There are seven keys, all of them once belonging to Grimms who participated in a war where they had to hide a powerful weapon from the Royals who might use it for bad things. According to what you are saying, this weapon is a tablet which has a word on it - though I fail to see how that is very threatening - and so it was hidden away. Over time, the keys disappeared and not all of them are accounted for." Said Nick. It was the best the Grimm could explain it, and not even he understood everything.

"And that tablet just so happens to have a Word from God on it," said Dean.

Renard whirled around, his trenchcoat clinging to his form as the speed caused it to drape around his form. "God? Is this some sort of joke?"

"I'm afraid not," said Sam. The giant's shoulders slumped and he stepped away from Crowley who sighed in relief. At least that meant he wasn't going to be punched in the gut for another ten minutes. Though he wouldn't put it past the Winchesters to do it when he was least expecting it.

"Am I to assume God is real?" Asked Renard. The Captain was scathing in both voice and tone.

"As real as you and I," said Sam.

"This is getting more complicated by the minute, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Renard threw up his hands. "So Victor and this Abaddon are working together to get a hold of the seven Grimm keys to find a Word of God that you have dealt with before?"

"We haven't actually dealt with that _exact_ Word, but yeah, that basically sums it up," said Sam. He could understand why Renard would have a hard time wrapping his head around such a concept but all of the people in the room were taking the news rather well. Naruto wasn't even swaying on his feet anymore.

"Are you going to stop that bitch from getting a Word that could potentially destroy us all or are you all just going to keep standing there like lost souls?" Asked Crowley. Dean punched him. Crowley coughed but didn't put up as much of a protest as Dean would have thought.

"As much as I hate to admit it, Crowley is right," sighed Dean.

Renard whipped out his phone. No signal. "Is it possible to get a signal in here?"

Sam shook his head. "Nearest is twenty miles out,"

"If one of you can get me a ride, I'll call my contacts." Said Renard. Nick had a bad feeling about this. "I think it's time for the resistance to live up to its name."


	13. A Round Table In A Library

A Round Table In A Library Provides Much Information

Chapter XII

The resistance hadn't been as keen to help as Renard had hoped. Having spent the last four days commuting from the bunker to the nearest gas station, the Captain had managed to get a hold of all four spies tied with the four Royal families who were told to have a key of their own. After much discussion, the top of the resistance had agreed that it was time to strike back and that the news of the Wesen King on their side was the trump card.

Sasuke hadn't appreciated the part where Naruto was used as a bargaining chip, but he had seen the use of such a powerful stature within a crumbling world and begrudgingly told Renard that if he dared call Naruto nothing more than Wesen King, the Uchiha would kill him in his sleep. Renard hadn't questioned the truth behind those words.

The blonde in question had gotten healthier under the watchful eye of both Rosalee and Monroe, and while Naruto complained about his inability to train as much as Sasuke, one stern look from the Fuchsbau was enough to shut the blonde up.

"Do we even know what these supposed keys look like?" Asked Dean. He had been as curious as Sam when it came to another side of the Wesen community but the short man had been reluctant in sharing their fight with Abaddon no matter how much Naruto argued about it. In the end, the brothers had keeled under the pressure and with a stern look in the blonde's direction, he had been instructed to train as soon as either Monroe or Rosalee had deemed him ready.

"Actually," said Nick. The Grimm leaned back in his seat and reached for a pocket in the jacket he had so elegantly swung over the back of his chair the moment they had chosen to sit down. In the days that had passed, the library had become a sort of meeting place for whenever something was about to go down or new information was shared; a benefit to not having to tell the same information to nine different people. Monroe and Rosalee had insisted they did not partake in the meetings and Castiel had merely waved them off - something about a job needing his presence. "I think Renard might have forgotten to mention that we already have one key," said the Grimm.

Dean coughed up his sip of whiskey.

"We what?" He exclaimed.

Sam got up to fetch a towel and clean up his brother's mess.

"Dean, if we had been in their position, wouldn't we have kept quiet about it just the same? It's not like we appear to be the most trustworthy of people around here and they are in potential enemy territory," said Sam, disposing of the used towel and resuming his seat at their little gathering.

Dean grumbled and wiped his chin on the sleeve of his jacket. "I hate it when you're right."

Sam smiled, knowing his brother meant well.

Nick tossed something onto the table. It was almost square but with rounded corners and an elaborate design that had Sasuke's eyebrows turn into skyrockets. "This is what we need to get six more of. We only know the location of four others, leaving us with two missing," said Nick.

Sam leaned forward and grabbed the key. The metal felt rough in his palm, like a bullet that had yet to be sanded down and the fine grains of metal dug into his skin. "How does it work?" He asked the Grimm.

Renard interrupted before Nick could try and explain. "When brought together, the seven keys will make a map, evidently leading us to the hiding place for the Word that Naruto saw. We know it's located somewhere within the Swabian Circle but we need a more exact location before we go on a wild goose chase," said the Captain. Nick scowled at the interruption, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. The Grimm didn't complain but the annoyance was evident on his face. Apparently, Renard liked to pull rank when Nick really would have preferred to pull a gun.

"What the hell is a Swabian Circle?" Asked Dean. The short man had filled his glass with whiskey and had put the bottle on the table, refusing to take it away even when Sam sent him eyes that told him to get rid of the alcohol. No one commanded Dean Winchester.

"Dean, you really need to read some of the books down here if you don't know that," countered Kevin. The cheeky teen had already pulled another book from one of the shelves around them. A thick black book with dust on all of what appeared to be four hundred pages worth of information on something called _Imperial Circles in the 16th Century_. Dean groaned loudly and took another swig. He groaned again when he realized his glass was empty.

"The Swabian Circle is located somewhere within Germany but the area is so widespread it makes perfect sense for us to wait until we can pinpoint the exact location," said Kevin. Dean sighed in relief when Kevin didn't elaborate further on the subject, the short man fearful that they might be stuck in the library for another two hours if Kevin decided to spout a lecture about Germany and lederhosen. He did not need lederhosen.

Beer.

Yes, he could do with a beer.

"Dean," said Sam. It was low and deliberate but Dean knew what it meant. If you dare get up from that chair to get yourself more alcohol, I will find the holy oil and burn you in your sleep. Dean shivered. No beer.

"Exactly," said Renard. "If we were to try and find a needle in a haystack of this size, it may take us years, and may I remind you all that we do not have that much time. Abaddon and Victor for themselves are bad enough to deal with, but with the two of them working together I want this mess cleared up even faster."

"Agreed," said Naruto. The two shinobi had been oddly quiet - Sasuke not so much, it was almost expected - but a silent blonde was either a dead Naruto or a thinking Naruto. Both of which Sasuke had informed them were bad things.

"And we need all seven keys for this to work?" Asked Sasuke. Nick nodded. "And two of them were unaccounted for?"

"Yes, why?" Asked Nick. It was unclear where the Uchiha was going with this line of inquiry and that was something the Grimm didn't like.

"I'm sure I've seen a key like that but I don't know if it's me being hopeful or if I am correct," said Sasuke. Renard leaned over the table, elbows resting on the smooth wood.

"Where have you seen it? I know for a fact that none of these keys are on a display and I find it highly unlikely that one might end up with one of those rich Daimyos you have both talked about," said Renard.

Sasuke tensed and Naruto sneaked a hand under the table.

"When my family was killed, a lot of their things went to me but I have never had the heart to look it through. But I'm quite sure my father had a key like that, although it was a tad bit more reddish than the green one there." The Uchiha gestured with a quick jerk of his head but he didn't reach out to inspect the key any closer. The need for something that would tear a new hole in his barely healed wound wasn't something he would actively seek out unless it was important.

"So it's possible for you to get a hold of it without a fight?" Asked Nick. It intrigued the Grimm that Sasuke, of all people, would have ended up with another key. Then again, if Grimms truly were descended from the Uchihas, there would have been an Uchiha with the other six Grimms when they had hidden away the tablet. This only fueled Nick's curiosity. When everything was over, he would have a look through the trailer and see if there might be a family tree somewhere in the mess of books and loose paper.

"I should think so, if Tsunade is willing to look for the key without either me or Naruto there," said Sasuke. "It's a possibility she won't be as forthcoming with our request as one might think. We don't exactly get along."

Nick had to raise an eyebrow at that. Tsunade - the village leader, as Naruto had explained - had sounded very relaxed and certainly protective of Naruto if the messages she kept sending the two were anything to go by.

"Are you kidding me?" Asked Naruto. He had turned in his chair so he could fully face Sasuke who gave the blonde a puzzled look. "Do you know how much sake she can secretly stash in those boxes and drink whenever Shizune isn't around to nag her? She'll worship you!" Said Naruto. The blonde smiled and Nick found himself wondering if it was possible for a face to have such a large smile without breaking any skin. If it was natural or merely a shinobi thing, Nick wasn't sure. One thing he knew, though, was that Sasuke would never smile like that around any of the others. Only for Naruto and even then Nick had his doubts.

"I guess you're right," shrugged Sasuke. "But you're writing the letter with me or she'll use it to sleep on without ever reading it."

Naruto rolled his eyes but complied with a small nod.

"So," said Sam. The air had been awkward after the shinobis playful exchange but the mention of the strongest shinobi in their village being both a drunk and a slacker was quite unsettling. None of the others had had a taste of the two teens power and Nick doubted they had ever really seen most of it. With Naruto out of control and Sasuke afraid of hurting the blonde, the Grimm hoped the two had more to offer than a few cheap eyetricks or else they would be hard pressed in a tight spot. Not that the Grimm hadn't been in a corner more times than he cared to think about, but even then Hank would always have his back. Now he had to trust someone who was only just one step away from being complete strangers.

"So what?" Asked Naruto, oblivious to the nervous sweat Nick could feel trickling down his brow. Sam cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair.

"So we only need one key then?"

"If you don't count the four keys currently residing within Royal houses, then yes," said Renard. The Captain had discarded himself of his trenchcoat about an hour ago, claiming the stifling heat of the Batcave was too much for him. Nick thought the man looked rather strange without his usual Noir getup.

Sam leaned back in his own chair, one hand rubbing the other as though he had a wound that required his attention. His hand was clear of any crust and the lack of a wound made the gesture all that more confusing but the giant only had a thoughtful look on his face before he turned to his brother.

"Could it be possible?" He asked.

Dean raised an eyebrow, his eyes swiftly darting from his brother's serious face, the empty whisky bottle and back to his brother. "What is?"

Sam turned to Renard. "Do you have any clue about the last key?"

Frowning, the Captain tapped his finger against the wood of the table. "Considering Sasuke's discovery about his key, I think it's safe to assume that the rumour circulating a few years back can be applied to the last key," said Renard.

"And what would that rumour be?" Asked Sam.

"Someone spread a rumour that an old man was in possession of a key but since he was neither of Royal blood, Grimm or Wesen heritage in any of the stories, they were quickly dismissed by the council as untrustworthy."

Sam gained a look of triumph, his eyes lighting up as his right hand stopped rubbing the palm of his left. "I knew it!"

Dean threw up his arms in frustration, apparently not getting to the same conclusion as his brother. "What did you know, Sammie?"

"Bobby."

"Bobby what?"

"Don't you remember? Bobby talked about that key of his that wouldn't open a thing no matter what he stuck it in," said Sam.

"The one he found in one of the cars?"

"Yes, that one."

Dean slumped back in his chair, the empty whiskey glass forgotten as he mulled over the new information. "Why do you think it's that _one_ _key_ we just happen to be looking for?"

"I don't think," said Sam. Dean snorted but the giant went on, choosing to ignore his brother's silent jab. "I _know_ it's the key we are looking for. Bobby always went on about how he got pressed into getting rid of all the old cars in town whenever someone died and he didn't understand why old MacIntosh's crappy truck had a 'piece of fine metal such as that', but he never got around to check up on it," argued Sam. Dean stopped chortling at the mention of his second father figure's untimely passing.

"So you suggest we drive all the way back to the scrap yard to look for a key that might or might not be what we are looking for? Dammit, Sam, he never even showed us what it looked like and what if he threw it out when he realized it couldn't be used for anything?" Asked Dean. It was frustrating to know that Bobby might have been the holder of something as valuable as the last key with unknown whereabouts.

"Come on, Dean, have you seen the scrap yard? Bobby wouldn't throw out anything unless it was a candy wrapper and even then he would have had to have been hard pressed."

"Fine, fine, I get it," said Dean. "Tomorrow. I honestly don't feel like driving until my ass hurts and then not catch some proper shuteye before we get back. I could honestly use some sleep."

"In any case, I wouldn't let you drive with all the whiskey you have inhaled this evening."

"Hey! I remember you being the one drinking beer and _then_ start driving."

"When have we ever not drunk beer after a job?" Asked Sam.

Dean opened his mouth, a comeback already forming in his mind until he clamped his jaw shut and stayed silent. Renard and Sasuke were both looking surprisingly amused and Dean didn't like to know that Sam and himself were the source of their fun and he would not grant them some more ammunition to keep up their little sadistic game. Brotherly arguing was something to be respected and apparently it wasn't when it came to people like Renard and Sasuke. Naruto, on the other hand, looked about ready to hit the hay and if they did drag out the meeting, the blonde would undoubtedly start using the cement floor as a pillow.

Renard wasn't going to let the blonde off that easily.

"What about the song from your memory, Naruto, do you remember it word for word?" Asked Renard. The Captain had, no doubt, followed Dean's line of vision and had seen the blonde nod off and decided there were still matters to discuss.

Naruto narrowed his eyes and pouted. Renard was a cruel man.

"No," he said. "I already told you, it was kind of chaotic."

Renard turned on his chair, reached one hand inside the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out a journal which had Nick groan.

"That thing again?" Asked the Grimm. This had Naruto wake up.

"What's that?" He asked.

"An old family journal," said Renard. "It contains a lot of things that Grimms have yet to find out on their own and Nick had the opportunity to hear one of the songs a while ago. But after what you have said about the song in your memory, I am fairly sure I know which one it was you heard."

Without waiting for an answer, the Captain cracked the book open, the worn pages nearly dissolving between his fingers but Renard kept leafing through the journal until he hit a page that caught his eye. "I believe this is the one," he said. "Do you want to see it?"

Naruto nodded vigorously and nearly leaned over the table in excitement. If Renard knew about what he had heard, that would mean the memory was real and would be one of many. Though it had hurt immensely and Naruto had been close to puking afterwards, it was nice to know that in some part of him, Kurama still existed even though he had left the earth and Naruto behind.

Naruto felt a shiver run down along his spine when he touched the leatherbound journal. It felt almost sacred and yet the blonde couldn't stop himself as his eyes roamed over the two pages of scribbled text. The ink was smudged, handwritten to the best of the writer's capability many years ago but one part caught his interest more than the rest.

"This part," said Naruto. "Is what I don't really get. I mean, it speaks of an allegiance, but I don't understand who is supposed to be in it."

Sasuke leaned over the blonde, looking at the black letters Naruto had pointed at with his index finger. With a smooth voice, The Uchiha began to read aloud.

_But the one who sees,_

_The one who is,_

_The one who exists,_

_The one who knows._

"I only remember one of them," said Naruto.

"Which one?" Asked Renard. It was obvious for anyone within in a ten feet radius that this was important to Renard and that the decryption of the song was something he had wanted to do for some time now. Naruto could only agree. If he had something left behind by Jiraiya that he couldn't fully comprehend, he would have sought out any contact of the old pervert's, in hopes of finding someone that could help him understand. To the Captain, Naruto was that person.

"The one who exists. I remember that part because it was about me," said the blonde.

"But you weren't alive at that point," said Nick. It was impossible for a song to talk about someone who had yet to be born, and then Naruto remembering it seemed even more unlikely.

"It wasn't about me as person," said Naruto. "It was about the Kyuubi, the Wesen King. And while it must have been Kurama back when that war had happened, it means me now, as I'm the one who carries the title."

"So you are the one who exists because there will always be a Wesen King no matter what?" Asked Kevin. Naruto nodded.

"That would actually make a lot of sense," said the prophet. "If everything in here is connected to both Grimms, angels and Wesen, then it shouldn't be too hard for us to figure out the rest of them."

"I hope you are right," said Renard. The Captain didn't reach for his book and he didn't comment when Naruto decided to flip to another page, his eyes skimming over every word as he tried to comprehend the meaning behind them. To the blonde it must have been quite a shock to see how many of those songs and small stories were actually about him and how he would save the Wesen.

"This song is wrong," said Naruto. The blonde was frowning, his finger pointing at a song even Nick could recognize. It was the one that spoke about the Grimms and the Wesen King, the one written by an Uchiha himself and the one Renard and Monroe had sung back when they had held Sasuke in an interview room.

"Why do you say that?" Asked Nick. To his knowledge, the song was straight forward. If the Wesen were scared, they would think of the King as the hero that would come and gobble up the Grimm and then they would all be free.

"In my memory, I was friends with the Grimms," said Naruto. "One of them even petted my fur and it was pretty cozy actually. So this thing about me eating Grimms, I don't think that's true or else my memory is jacked up."

"Ah," said Renard. "The reason for that would be when the two songs were written."

"Written?" Asked Naruto.

"Yes, the song about the Word is from somewhere around 1327, if my ancestor has written it correctly, and the one you are sitting with was written a few centuries before that. I believe it was dated somewhere around 896 but whether or not it was actually written then can be discussed." Said Renard.

Sasuke nearly fell out of his chair when he saw who had signed the song Naruto had looked up.

"Uchiha?" He asked.

"Indeed an Uchiha," said Renard. "Didn't you know?"

Sasuke shook his head.

"But I thought that was the reason you were so close to Naruto? I mean, beside the obvious love thing you have going on."

"Should I have a reason to be this close to Naruto?" Asked Sasuke. Renard looked away from the piercing black eyes. Sasuke didn't like not knowing what was going on and at the moment, the Captain knew more about an Uchiha than he did.

"Well, in some of the old Wesen stories, Uchihas were told to be the Guardians of the Wesen King. There would always be one assigned to the King and they were often close friends. Since you said you were the last Uchiha, I just assumed you had taken the responsibility upon yourself and then gotten to know Naruto in the process," said Renard.

Naruto nearly choked. "Wait, you are saying I would have been stuck with the teme anyway?"

Sasuke glared at the blonde. "Dobe."

Renard ignored both outbursts and continued with his explanation. "In reality, yes. At least I think that's how it is supposed to work, but since the Wesen King hadn't been sighted for such a long time, the rumours never evolved and no one really knew how it worked. I believe fate had things planned for you two in advance."

Naruto turned red and looked at Sasuke then at Renard. With a groan, he planted his face on the surface of the wooden table and proceeded to grumble things in Japanese that Sasuke looked uncomfortable to translate.

Sam coughed into his hand. "I think we should call it a day."

"I agree," said Dean as Sam had barely finished his sentence.

Kevin was grinning and the two Winchesters didn't doubt the teen had at least some sort of understanding about what Naruto had said and was still grumbling about. Cheeky bastard did nothing but nod and made to get up from his chair. When Kevin started chuckling to himself and Sasuke turned about as red in the head as Naruto from embarrassment from the blonde's words, Dean abandoned all interest in finding out what had been said. He was sure he didn't want to know anymore.

"I suggest we keep training every day and that we get some rest before tomorrow, not to mention Rosalee and Monroe might have my head if we keep the two of you up any longer," said Nick and directed the last bit to the now scowling Uchiha and laughing blonde. No, he did no want to know whatever words Naruto was spouting either.

Between bouts of laughter, Naruto managed to nod his agreement and slowly the Japanese words died on his lips as he and Sasuke both got up and disappeared down the corridor to their shared bedroom.

"This is it isn't it? The final chapter in our battle with the Royals?" Asked Nick when the two teens were out of earshot. He had no trouble relaying his troubles and fears in the company of the Winchester brothers and Kevin. The Grimm knew the young teen wouldn't argue about his fighting prowess like the two others and Naruto and Sasuke would very well insist that they were brought along for the battle as well whenever the time would arise.

"Yes, I believe so," said Renard.

"We'll back you up," said Sam. Dean scowled at his brother's willingness to help the others when he could barely keep himself alive, but the short man knew they should help where they could. And Abaddon was their enemy too. Who cared if a couple of Royals lost their heads in the crossfire? Dean sure didn't mind.

"Thank you," said Renard. "But first things first."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?"

"Yes, tomorrow I will give the Resistance the green light for their spies to steal the keys from all four Royal houses."


	14. Pancakes Are Better When Shared

**Do you smell that guys? It's the smell of plot.**

* * *

><p>Pancakes Are Better When Shared<p>

Chapter XIII

Denmark. A country with flat roads, cows and horrible weather.

Markus had never been one for the country in the first place, but where you are born is often where you stay. Especially if you work for the Royal house of Oxholm.

Though he didn't expect to have a job after today. Your employer usually sacks you when you steal something from them that is more precious than their first born child. Not that Markus was faced with that situation, no, he had been quick and silent in doing his job for the Resistance.

It wasn't as though he hadn't been emotionally connected with the Royal family, he just valued his own family more and when the green light ticked in on his mobile phone, he had been all too quick in going and leaving no goodbyes. He doubted they would even notice the key was gone until Viktor might try to contact them and get them to hand over their key. By then, it should be in the hands of the Prince of Portland and hopefully be put to better use than whatever Viktor might be able to think of.

Rumour had it the Crown Prince was going to try and get a hold of something more powerful than having absolute power over the other Royal houses, and Markus would rather die than see that happening. He wasn't the best friend to the Oxholm family but spending such a long time by their side, you are bound to get attached at some point.

Luck would be the only thing determining whether or not he would live to see the light of a new day when he returned to the castle. Traitors were swiftly disposed of, but Markus would rather end his days where he spend most of his time than in some ditch when Viktor got his hands on him himself.

"Sir, you need one more stamp," asked the lady at the counter. She was squat, round and most of all smelly, but Markus endured all of it. The posthouse wasn't always this stuffy but when it was a Friday and you wanted to send a package out of the country, you had to be lucky to not spend at least an hour waiting in line. Markus wrinkled his nose.

"Sorry," he said. Fishing through his pocket, he found a scrap of paper with glue on the backside. Markus was just glad the days of manually licking the back of a stamp were over. Slapping the picture of Queen Margrethe II of Denmark, Markus waited for the woman behind the counter to check the weight again. When she nodded, she gave him a crooked smile.

"That'll be fortytwo kroner. Do you want to pay cash or credit?"

"Cash," said Markus. He didn't wait for a heartbeat; anything to get away from that witch. Besides, cash weren't as easily tracked as credit. It would be an abnormally big red flag if the Oxholms were to check his account statement and find a suspicious tiny amount of money going for the post office. It would be incredible stupid if that was the thing that would be his downfall in the end. Not that the end was that far off.

"Thank you," said the woman and she deposited of the coins with a resounding smack of the till. Markus wasn't sure if it was just him that thought the sound was abnormally loud or if it was the fact that his heart was in his throat.

His pocket buzzed as he stepped out of growing line.

_The pancakes aren't burned._

No sender.

However, Markus didn't need a phone to identify who the text was from. The words in itself were enough of their agreed code for the man to know that Sebastian had carried out the same task in Vienna. Earlier, two texts from Japan and Italy had confirmed the success of the other two spies and the acquirement of the two keys. It was a strange thought that so many might die because of four slabs of fancily decorated metal, but Markus knew how important they were for both the Resistance and the Royal houses.

He only hoped the mailman could be trusted.

* * *

><p>Renard had been given the kind opportunity of borrowing Monroe's trusty Beetle.<p>

No one had objected except Monroe who, with a jab from Rosalee, had reluctantly handed over the jingling car keys. Not that Renard didn't enjoy driving in his own car, they had just - everyone excluding Renard - decided that it would be more inconspicuous, and therefore in everybody's best interest, to not let the Captain drive his own car to the nearest PO box.

Renard couldn't argue with that, and so, he had begrudgingly slammed the door of the Beetle and had taken the small two hour trip to the designated destination of the four keys. Renard had been constantly checking the PO box for the last week and while none of the keys had shown up yet, the Captain felt fairly calm.

The Resistance trusted him despite his blue blood and he trusted them. It was something that had had to come from both sides or a stunt like this could not have been pulled. It was their spies anyway. All except one.

And that's what was worrying Renard so much.

Sebastian hadn't been in contact since he had left Portland and instructed the man to keep in touch through the Resistance. Sebastian had done so, flawlessly as always while only missing a few calls, until the day after the operation.

Markus from the Royal House of Oxholm, Denmark, had been found dead three days ago. The news claimed a heroin intake gone wrong but Renard knew exactly why and how he died. And it hadn't been pretty.

Not hearing from Sebastian didn't necessarily mean the man was dead, but it wasn't a good sign either. Viktor would have been one of the first ones to realize that his key was gone and would have acted accordingly. Meaning he would have rooted out any traitors as he saw fit. And if Sebastian hadn't passed that test …

Renard shivered and turned up the heat in the Beetle.

Coming to a halt, the Captain stepped out of the small car and made his way over to the PO box. It was a muddy red piece of rusting garbage but apparently it still manage to hold itself upright long enough for the mailman to leave whatever post the Winchesters were waiting for.

Ripping the lid open, Renard exhaled as he saw four packages neatly labelled for a _Dean Winchester_. One of them in Katana, two others with a neat handwriting and one package which was undoubtedly from Sebastian. The scribbles were hard to forget and Renard knew what Sebastian's handwriting looked like.

For some reason, this calmed him down.

After the initial call from the Resistance that the operations had been a success, he still had his doubts whether or not someone might have been able to impersonate Sebastian and fool the Resistance while the other man was dying in a ditch. But Renard hadn't risked exposure to ensure Sebastian was alright. He knew the other man wouldn't want him to. But it didn't stop him from worrying.

And now it would seem that his fears were unnecessary.

Tearing into the packages, Renard felt the smoothness of the metallic keys under his fingers. The mailman was sure lazy if he had waited to bring out the packages until he deemed there were enough to not waste his time.

Now he just hoped Nick was having as much luck as himself.

* * *

><p>There was rubble everywhere. And Nick was quite used to seeing various states of rubble.<p>

"How are we going to find one key in this mess?" Asked Nick.

"I suggest we start by looking," said Dean. The short man had already clambered over a particularly burnt leather chair while his eyes were glued to the ground covered in ash and soot.

By what the Grimm had managed to get out of the two Winchesters, the salvage yard had belonged to someone they were close with, someone who they considered to be as much of a father figure as their real father, if their reminiscing was anything to go by. Bobby Singer had died some time ago, but judging by the silence from Sam and Dean, the wound was still fresh.

Nick only wondered how much ash the rain had managed to wash away for this much to remain.

"Do you have any idea where he would keep valuable stuff?" Asked Nick. The more time they wasted here, the longer it would be before they could get back to the Batcave and meet up with Renard. The Grimm was quite anxious about the keys and he had nearly exploded when he had found out they were going to be sent by mail.

"Bobby didn't catalogue anything unless it was the discovery of a new monster," said Dean.

"Wesen," said Sam.

"What?"

"A new Wesen. I don't think we should call them all monsters."

Dean sighed. "Fine, whenever he was cataloguing new Wesen."

Nick's shoulders slumped. The air was surprisingly frosty, even for someone like him and he had no doubt the two Winchesters were freezing as well. But it sounded as though the search could take days if Sam and Dean's indication was anything to go by.

"There must be something," mumbled Nick. If someone like Bobby Singer wasn't a collector about one thing or another that wasn't cars or part of his cover, Nick would eat his own jacket. It was just a matter of finding out what the old man had been collecting.

Juliette had often complained about his habit of keeping a coffee cup from whatever country or state they were vacationing in, but it was something he had done ever since he thought he had lost both of his parents in a car crash. Aunt Marie had been the one to initiate the ritual and it had somehow managed to stick with the Grimm throughout his adult life as well.

Stepping on another broken beer bottle, Nick cursed and came to a halt.

There were actually a large amount of scattered beer bottles, even for someone like Bobby Singer who sounded mostly like he had been drunk most of the time.

"Was he collecting beer bottles?" Asked Nick. Sam wasn't too far away and the Grimm would rather avoid having to yell or walk away from where he had just stepped in another puddle of crushed glass. The acid green was bubbly and charred from the amount of extreme heat it had been under during the fire, but most of the bottles were still partially intact.

Sam stopped fiddling with a couple of floorboards and turned to face the Grimm but didn't get up from his kneeling position from what remained of a floor. "It's possible. Why?"

Nick shrugged. It seemed mean to talk ill about the dead and considering how close Bobby and the Winchesters had been, the Grimm was even more reluctant to do so. Even though he doubted Sam would look too much into his comment. "It's just that there are a lot of beer bottles - a lot of empty ones - and I can't help but wonder if Mr Singer might have kept some of the bottles?" The name felt formal and Sam nearly flinched but Nick knew it wasn't his right to call the dead man Bobby in front of the brothers. He had no knowledge of the man, so he had taken a leaflet out of Sasuke and Naruto's book and had gone with a polite last name.

"Now that you mention it, Bobby said he always kept something after he and Rufus would have finished a job. Some sort of celebration ceremony that both of them had survived, if I remember correctly," said Sam. Grabbing a bottle that was within his reach, the giant turned it over in his hand and studied the label with scrutinizing eyes. "Bobby was the one who always told me and Dean to get a beer after a job well done and I wouldn't put it past him, to be honest. It does seem like something Bobby would do."

"What sounds like something Bobby would do?" Asked Dean. His dark jacket was covered in ash and his face had streaks of soot but beside the shuffling of his feet, nothing gave away the short man's uncomfortability in the house of his dead father figure.

"The beer bottles," said Nick.

"What about them?"

"Could it be possible he would have put a key he had no use for at the given moment into a empty bottle of beer he kept?" It was plausible that a man like Bobby Singer would have refused to give away something that might be of great importance one day. Dean had said it was an occupational hazard and after seeing all the rubble and ridiculous things in the nearby vicinity of the Singer Salvage Yard, Nick could conclude that Bobby had suffered from collector's mania. Hiding a key in a beer bottle didn't seem like a long shot for the Grimm.

"For someone like Bobby? Yeah, I would say it's plenty possible," said Dean. Nick relied more on the oldest Winchester brother when it came to Bobby. The two appeared to have a more complicated, but also fatherly, relationship than Sam. They spoke in different ways of the man and when Sam spoke, it was fondness but of that someone might associate with an uncle and not a father. Dean's voice would turn proud and angry at the same time.

"Then let's find us some beer bottles," concluded Sam, rising from his squatting position and stretching out his long limbs as to get rid of the stiffness in his muscles.

"I still prefer them with the alcohol inside, though," said Dean. It earned him a cuff over the ear from his brother, but it lightened the mood nonetheless and Nick found himself smiling as well. At least they had something to go on now.

For Nick, that meant turning, shaking and trying to identify what was inside the case of melted glass on a lot of beer bottles. Too many, in fact, to what should be considered a healthy amount of beer bottles consumed during a whole man's life.

The Grimm had gotten the feeling as though he was being watched several times but had merely shrugged it off as either Sam or Dean taking a turn at deciding whether or not he was actually trustworthy. He knew he would have done the same if he had invited someone over to the burned down house of his father figure. If he had one.

After the twentieth bottle, he decided to consult with Sam and Dean.

"Are you having any luck?" He asked.

Flopping into a lotus position, Sam shook his head. "None," he said and flicked another bottle into a pile he had made. It consisted only of the ones he had dismissed while another pile, further away, consisted of Dean's thrown away bottles.

Nick had given up trying to figure out whose pile belonged to whom.

"Me neither," said Dean, his hands swallowed by piles of something fluffy that had lost all colour except an ashen grey. The Grimm didn't dare guess what it might have been in an earlier life. "Hang on, I got another one."

Dean's fingers flailed and his tongue darted out of his mouth as he leaned further into the fluffy substance that had swallowed his hand. Dragging out an almost transparent silver bottle, Nick nearly fell backwards. Within the depths that had once contained beer with an alcohol volume of 4,9 percent, was a glimmering key made of old metal.

"Jackpot," said Dean.

"Exactly my words."

Neither the Grimm nor Sam or Dean had said anything. Nick swivelled around, his foot getting caught in a piece of furniture but the Grimm didn't take notion of the sharp pain that travelled up his spine. A redhead was standing in front of them, no more than a few feet away, dressed in black and with luscious red lips.

"Abbadouche," said Dean. His hands travelled to the gun in his jeans and without a second thought, the short man had taken aim at the demon.

"I have to say I adore your nicknames however insulting they may be," she said. She reached for something in the pocket of her black leather jacket as well and Nick briefly wondered if she had a gun. Abaddon removed the wrapper from a red lollipop and threw it on the ground.

"You know that's illegal, right?" Asked Dean. There was no humour in his voice and before Nick knew it, he had drawn his own gun, pointing it directly at the redhead's temple. Having read up on demons, the Grimm knew it wouldn't make a difference whether or not he decided to shoot, but the cop within him knew it was a technique of intimidation. Who knew if it worked on ancient demons too?

"It was a nice card by the way," said Sam. The giant had yet to draw his own gun but Nick knew better than to ask. The Winchesters had dealt with demons long enough for the Grimm to trust their instincts fully when his own were not up to par with the situation. When Abaddon didn't confirm or question his statement, Sam elaborated. "The bullet back in Portland. A Devil's Trap, from you to us."

Abaddon laughed, rich and full. If Nick hadn't known she was a demon by now, he would have deemed her girlfriend material if not for her slutty choice of clothing.

"Oh, that little stunt," she said. "Yes, I do hope you enjoyed that one boys. I have plenty more of those if you want some."

"Don't flatter yourself," said Dean. Nick's own arm was starting to cramp from the strain of holding up his gun, but Dean seemed to have no trouble despite having done it for longer. "What the hell do you want?"

"Always straight to the point and no fun," Abaddon pouted and the lollipop in her mouth made one cheek stand out more than the other. She looked like a rabbit without the buckteeth. "I want the Grimm key, of course, what else would I want?"

Her eyes changed. In a way, a bit like Naruto's had done before he became enraged, but Abaddon's change was quicker and much more smooth. Instead of the slow progress with Naruto where you could see every little part of his eye change colour until there was nothing left, Abaddon was done in the blink of an eye. Pure black.

Nick shivered. Naruto had, to some extent, still been human in mind and somewhat body. But this woman - this thing - in front of him, was nothing more than an animal to be put down. A demon in a human body. The Grimm felt like puking.

"I suppose you aren't going to hand it over quietly, are you?" Asked Abaddon.

"Like hell we would, bitch!" Said Dean.

"Our numbers aren't exactly fair either, are they? I guess it's time for my boys to come out and play," she waved her hand and somehow, two other people showed up from behind the wall of salvaged cars that dotted the wasteland that was Singer's Salvage Yard. They carried uniforms, army ones, to be exact, but both of them had the same eyes as Abaddon.

Demons. There was no way around that fact.

"Sam, Nick, you two take care of her goons, I personally have a few things to say to miss 'World's Angriest Ginger' here," said Dean and smashed the intact beer bottle against a hard edge of what might once have been a fireplace. One hand grabbed the key with desperate fingers curling around the metal but Dean's eyes never strayed from Abaddon's face.

Sam nodded at his brother and while Nick had to wonder why the giant would choose to do so when Dean could not see him, Sam drew his gun and stalked closer to one of the demons.

It was a quick change of demeanour, a slight tilt of his shoulders that gave away the state of mind with which Sam now operated. He was like a trained soldier ready to face his enemies in a war, and Nick realized for the first time that that was what it was. A war. One that the Winchesters had been fighting ever since they had been born.

And Nick would do whatever it took to help them on their way. This was his war too.

Within a second, one of the demons had charged at Nick, gun raised but the man had yet to shoot. Seeing a chance, Nick dropped low, just in case the demon decided to get trigger happy. Firing a shot from his own gun, the demon flicked his head back as the bullet connected with his forehead and successfully grounded him for a few short moments.

Closing the distance between himself and the fallen soldier, the Grimm flew forward and tore the gun from the demon's grip, flinging it away from the two of them as Nick descended upon his enemy. Fists moving like a flurry, the Grimm punched the daylights out of the demon. It was a bloody and messy affair, but one that kept said demon from regenerating every other second, and with the amount of strenght Nick put behind his right hook, the Grimm was hesitant whether or not the man's jaw would ever heal properly - demonic powers or not.

The skin was broken but the man barely reacted. Tossing Nick back on the ground like a ragdoll, the Grimm struggled to get back up on his feet while skidding in the rubble. The soot covering the ground and what little remained of the floorboards was not the best foundation to fight on. To be honest, Nick would prefer the Löwen ring and a proper fist fight any day.

The Grimm was knocked backwards but Nick managed to remain standing as he felt a fist connect with his gut. He coughed and was relieved at the fact that no blood seemed to have been coughed up. It was the small things in life that you had to remember. Besides, Nick remembered how to unbalance an angry man caught up in the heat of the fight.

Ducking and avoiding the blow that Nick was sure would have grounded him for a solid ten seconds should it have connected with his skull, the Grimm bent low, air whizzing past his head where a curled fist sailed with rapid movement. Flicking out his leg, Nick went for the man's knee cap.

The resounding crack was sickening but satisfying at the same time. Something Nick had never thought he would think of as a good sound, but one changes with the flow of time and his timeline just happened to be severely messed up.

The man wailed, or at least he would have if any sound escaped from his mouth. Nick wondered for a moment whether or not he had gone deaf until he realized the man had stayed quiet during his earlier bashing as well. The Grimm chalked it up to nothing more than a missing link between the capabilities of a human body and a demonic mind. Sure, they could heal extremely fast but what good use would that be if it would be impossible to use the host body afterwards. Wrecking it would still hurt at some point and while the demon inside would have no link to the pain center in the brain, the body would act on its own.

The man gave a shudder and Nick choose that moment to go for his gun. It had been knocked out of his hand during his little escapade with the knuckle sandwich and now he could actually use it for something despite not having bullets scraped with a Devil's Trap on their tip. He had to remind Renard to implement that at the police station. Sure, it would lead to some awkward questions but it would get them achieve better results overall. Not even the board should be able to argue with that.

Placing the barrel of the gun right below the demon's chin, Nick took the shot. He had never been so coldhearted before and the Grimm had to remind himself that the thing in front of him was not a human but a demon in disguise. It was a flesh suit that at one point had belonged to someone with a family, friends and maybe even a lover. But all of that had been taken from them the moment their eyes had been taken over by that dark, black colour. Nick frowned as he felt the man's blood spurt onto his face. Dean and Sam hadn't explained how demonic possession worked and if it could happen to everyone or if it was specific people only.

As if hearing his inner question, the demon opened its mouth.

Black smoke streamed from the body's nostrils and mouth, almost every opening available in the man's face and Nick fell backwards in confusion. The black captured his vision, encompassed it in something he couldn't recognize. Vaguely, he was aware of Sam yelling his name but he couldn't open his mouth to answer, to tell the other man that he was okay and that he should concentrate on his own fight. Nick still couldn't see a thing.

But he could hear something.

A voice. Whispering. There were suggestions, unkind and unwise for the Winchesters but at the moment they seemed like such good ideas. But they weren't his. They weren't Nick. The Grimm wasn't sure if he was grabbing his head in pain, he couldn't feel if he did, but he knew one thing. Whatever the Hell the demon was doing, it was not going to get away with it.

Groaning, Nick was sure he was laying on his back now, a stick or another sharp object poking into his sore back. The muscles were strained, tense at first from the prospect of perhaps not finding the key and then from the fight he was still engaged in.

The battlefield had simply changed.

It was a battle of minds and Nick wasn't about to give up.

The Grimm was sure he thrashed on the ground and knew he would have looked like one Hell of a disco worm if the situation had not been so grave. But it allowed Nick to think. Because there was room to think. It didn't match with his theory on the demonic mind and the human body, because he could still _feel_ what was going on around him and he could still _think_. Because there was room to think.

And that didn't make any sense.

There wasn't room for the demon.

"Get out already!" Yelled Nick.

The demon did. The smoke cleared and suddenly the Grimm could breathe again. He gasped for breath, his chest aching and Nick didn't know if he had breathed for the seconds or minutes the possession had lasted. If it even had been a possession or merely a trick that Nick hadn't heard or read about. It was plenty possible and Nick wasn't about to dismiss the fact that he still had much to learn on the subject of demons. Yes, he was sure he was going to write a whole book for the trailer by the time they were finished with this whole Abaddon business.

Nick blinked. The first few times things were still blurry but he could see the blue sky and the cotton-like clouds. They were strangely calm in the midst of such a fearsome battle between man and demon. It was almost unfair to think that the world would continue at an unchanged pace when its fate rested within the hands of three middle aged men fighting in a burned down building of an old drunk. Not exactly the most heroic of settings, Nick had to admit.

Someone was pulling his arm and the Grimm felt the distinct lack of a gun in his hand.

"Nick?" Asked Sam. It had taken the giant no more than five seconds to properly dispose of the demon Dean had told him to deal with. Only to turn around and see Nick getting into a fistfight with a demonic soldier just dying to pummel the Grimm to death. Only to have the tables turn again. And have said demon leave the carcass behind and go after Nick.

Abandoning all care, Sam had sped across the hurdle race of rubble only to see Nick fight the demonic possesion off in no more than two seconds. To the Grimm, it would have undoubtedly felt longer, but Sam knew how long such things usually took.

The fleeing form of the demon as nothing more than a scrap of black smoke proved Nick's victory however much disorientated the other man seemed to be.

"Nick?" Asked Sam again. He knew he would have to keep trying until he got through and while the sounds of Abaddon and Dean fighting somewhere not far behind him was enough to put the giant at unease, it was more important to find out whether or not Nick was truly still himself.

"What?" It was a weak and pitiful answer but an answer nonetheless.

"Come on," said Sam and hoisted the barely conscious man onto his shoulder. If Dean's grunts of anger were anything to go by, his brother was holding his own against Abaddon but just barely. They would have to get away, and soon.

"Get in the car," said Sam. He wasn't sure if Nick heard him, the other man still confused and his thoughts obviously muddled, but his eyes showed no trace of the black that usually gave away the presence of a demon in a new meatsuit. Somehow, Nick had managed to fight off a demon as quickly as someone with an anti possession tattoo should have.

Sam was sure Nick didn't have a tattoo like that.

Tearing open the door to the back seat of the Impala and chucking the Grimm inside, Nick lay splayed over the two seats, one arm hanging limply from the rest of his body but alive nonetheless.

"Dean!" Said Sam. His brother didn't answer but Sam knew he had heard it. He always heard it.

He climbed over the bonnet of the Impala and while he could imagine Dean complain later about the sudden appearance of scratches in the paintjob, Sam was more than willing to risk his brother's anger than to wait any longer in the presence of Abaddon and her psychotic tendencies.

Sam was glad Dean had left the keys in the ignition.

Turning on the power, Sam felt the Impala come to life all around him. Roaring, Sam hit the clutch pedal and the gas, getting as close to the rubble as possible, offering Dean an escape route as soon as the other man saw a chance to get away.

While they were still two against one, the Winchesters were outnumbered no matter how you twisted and turned it. Abaddon was at least worth ten vampires and a werewolf, and Nick was of no help at the moment.

Sam leaned over the passenger seat, his fingers clutching the handle of the door and pushing it open, letting his brother have an even easier access to the car whenever Dean deemed himself about to get away from the World's Angriest Ginger.

"Dean!" Yelled Sam again.

"I'm a little bit preoccupied right now, Sammie."

"Just get in the car!"

Dean spared him a glance, his eyes widening at the sight of his poor baby so close to the piles of beer bottles that had somehow turned to mounds of sharp glass that could puncture and hurt his car. Besides all the other rubble Sam had so elegantly drove over in his efforts to get closer to his brother.

Abaddon scratched his cheek with her nails.

"Bitch!" Cried Dean.

"Now, Dean, that wasn't nice. Pay attention when I'm fighting you," she said. She had her lollipop although Dean doubted whether or not it was only the stick that remained. Their fight had dragged on long enough.

"Suck it," said Dean as he threw himself the last bit of way and managed to scrambled into the car in the most undignified manner Sam had ever seen an adult man crawl. Abaddon screeched, her hands reaching for the short man as Dean clambered further into the car.

Abaddon ripped away his back pocket the moment Sam felt he couldn't risk waiting any longer for his brother to haul the other half of his ass into the car.

"No!" Exclaimed Dean. Sam didn't hear, just kept on driving until he could no longer see Abaddon's flaming red hair in the rearview mirror. The only odd thing was that she had been smiling as she stood with the flayed piece of denim pants.

"God dammit, Sammie! The key was in my pocket!"

Sam nearly hit the brakes but Dean continued, seeing where his brother was considering making a u-turn.

"Leave it! We can't risk going back there with just the two of us," said Dean.

"But we can't let her get the key," he argued.

"One key less or both of our lives, I'm sure we'll figure something out later."

The rest of the car trip back to the Batcave was spent in silence.


	15. An Unconscious Man Cannot Vote

**I start writing my thesis today, but this is exactly the reason why I finished writing this before posting. There will be no delays despite a busy life outside of FF and I can concentrate on homework. (Lol, I'm scraping rock bottom in most of my classes.)**

**Enjoy and I'll see you guys next Friday. (And BTW, if any of you speak Spanish, would you be willing to help me with grammar? I suck at it and I really don't want to fail that class.)**

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><p>An Unconscious Man Cannot Vote<p>

Chapter XIV

"What do you mean you lost the key? And why is Nick unconscious?" Asked Renard. He had greeted the three men and one Impala with four different letters in hand, all opened and without content, having safely removed it and hidden it somewhere safe within the Batcave. Only to find out that Abaddon had managed to get a hold of the last one.

"We're sorry, okay? It's not like we planned for Abaddon to show up," grumbled Dean.

"You should have expected it."

"Easy for you to say, you haven't exactly had a face off with her yet."

"If you keep up that good work of yours, I guess I'll have to."

"Stop arguing and help me get Nick inside," said Sam. He was quite fed up with the bickering and dragging the unconscious Grimm was hard work. Halfway through their trip back, Nick had stopped responding and had fallen into a sort of coma-like sleep but at least his breathing had been steady.

"Coming," said Dean. Hoisting Nick's other arm over his own shoulder, the short man stumbled forward with his brother and a load of dead weight while Renard held the door open. At least the bossy Captain was useful for something.

Running on ahead, Renard put his longs legs to good use as he sped through the corridors to, presumably, find either Monroe or Rosalee to check up on the snoring Grimm. Sam could have laughed but chose not to - he just hadn't expected Nick, of all people, to be a snorer.

Veering off towards the sleeping quarters, the Winchesters decided it would be easier for Rosalee to treat Nick if he was in a comfortable bed rather than on the ground like a piece of military first aid. Dean let go as soon as he was sure Nick would hit some part of his own bed.

"Honestly, Nick could do with losing some of those muscles. He weighs a ton, at least," said Dean. Sam laughed at the joke but rubbed his sore shoulder as well. Nick had felt like a ton of bricks in a pillowcase - something you need to drag along but won't ever do again. The strain it put to his poor arms would take him days to recover from. And since Abaddon snatched the last key from right under their noses, they didn't have days.

"Nick!" It was Rosalee who barreled through the open door first. Her arms full of supplies and herbs and smells Sam wasn't sure were healthy even to inhale. Monroe stumbled in after the Fuchsbau, arms equally full but with glasses and various vials of colours that seemed to range far beyond the original spectrum. Castiel showed up as well, a new trenchcoat covering his very much human form but his face was still indifferent as it had been when he had had his Grace. Sam guessed habits died hard, or Castiel simply couldn't reach the part of the human brain that controlled facial features.

"Is he gonna' be okay?" Naruto and Sasuke had followed the angel and the small room was suddenly cramped. The only people who had yet to show were Crowley and Kevin, the first one hopefully still securely held to a chair in the dungeon. Sam doubted Kevin would show up, even if the base was on fire. The young prophet had a tendency to shut everything else out whenever he entered one of his research phases in the library. Not that Sam would blame him, he had felt the exact same way when he had been studying to become a lawyer. A shame Dean had to ruin that by breaking into his and Jess' apartment with a gun and an Impala. Couldn't blame his brother for his priorities though.

"I sure as hell hope so," said Dean. Sam took a step back, letting Monroe and Rosalee have easier access to Nick's slumping body. The grown man was dangling precariously from the edge of the bed, his upper body resting on the mattress while his feet stuck out awkwardly into the air.

"What happened?" Asked Rosalee. She didn't turn to face either of the Winchesters and Sam wasn't sure who she was talking to until it became clear that Dean didn't have a good enough answer. He hadn't seen what Sam had seen.

"He was possessed," said Sam.

"Like, possessed possessed or?" Asked Naruto. The blonde drew on the word, his confusion evident and Sam understood it well. Naruto had undergone some sort of possession during the time the other Kyuubi had still resided within his body and the blonde had told of one time when he had not been in full control of himself. Sam guessed it was okay for the other boy to be confused, seeing as the method of possession clearly differed from Jinchuuriki to normal person.

"Demonic possession with black smoke and everything, but it took Nick around two seconds to fight it off," said Sam. It was the only thing that bugged him. The Grimm shouldn't have been able to fight a demonic possession off so fast, especially if he didn't know how to react in the first place. Sam was sure Nick hadn't even realized what had happened to him before the demon had been forced out of his body.

It had to have been forced out. Right?

"What I don't get is how he managed to fight it off," said Sam, deciding to voice his doubts aloud. It was unnerving him that there was something he couldn't grasp and he knew Dean wasn't one to mull things over. He would accept them and move on without even a hint of doubt. Sam envied his brother for that skill, because the giant knew it was one he would never obtain. He blamed his curiosity, but part of him knew it was something more. It was the simple uncertainty of not knowing that put him on edge like it had done when Tess had died on the ceiling.

Rosalee didn't answer but Monroe did; however, the Fuchsbau forced the Blutbad to keep his eyes locked on Nick and keep focus. Distraction wasn't welcomed and Sam could live with that. Although Monroe seemed hesitant to share his theory, a prompt nudge from Renard spurred the Blutbad into motion and his lips moved slowly, as though he wasn't sure which words to choose or how he should word his sentence.

"To be honest I don't think it would be possible for Nick to be possessed at all. I mean, he is a Grimm, we all know that, but a Grimm is essentially a being in itself. His body is human but part of him is a Grimm too. So it would only be natural that there wouldn't be space enough for a third part inside his body, even if the Grimm part of him doesn't have a subconsciousness of its own, like Naruto had with the previous Kyuubi." Said Monroe. It was a steady stream of words and it took some time for Sam to decipher what the Blutbad had said. Not that the bearded man hadn't spoken slowly enough to understand, but simply because the claim seemed so ridiculous, yet plausible.

"So Nick couldn't be possessed because he was already possessed to a certain extent?" Asked Dean. Sam could understand if Dean would have a hard time trying to understand what Monroe had said and Sam didn't blame him for that either. All these years they had heard nothing of bad possessions and people that had turned into monsters only to have their world turned upside down and find out that there are good monsters. That not everyone can be lopped off into a category and that there are other people who are willing to help hunters when things turned sour.

Nick was the prime example of that.

"Exactly, although I'm not sure if that's how it's supposed to go. To be honest, Wesen don't know much about Grimms and in turn, Grimms doesn't know much about us. Even though Nick has come a long way from that point now. He's even begun to change the findings of his ancestors bit by bit." The last part was something Monroe told himself more than anyone else in the room. It showed Nick's acceptance of his own role as a Grimm but also as a friend. He had taken it upon himself to change everything his forefathers thought was right every time another Wesen would prove them wrong. Nick was willing to accept that fact - that not everyone was right about the monsters under your bed - and that was what put Monroe in such a good mood. It was what compelled the Blutbad to continue to help and teach Nick about the Wesen world even when the reapers and council beat him down time and time again.

He did it for change. He did it for a friend.

Rosalee jarred him out of his thoughts.

"There shouldn't be anything wrong with him. His body is exhausted but that's that. All in all, he is in perfectly good shape and as healthy as can be. My guess is that the amount of energy it took for him to expel the demon from his body simply took its toll sooner than expected." Said Rosalee.

The air in the room lifted slightly at that.

It was nice to know Nick would be okay and that the Grimm would be immune to demonic possession. It definitely lessened the pressure on the Winchester brothers' shoulders if they would ever have to fight alongside the Grimm again. It meant less things to worry about and more time to keep a level head in battle. Something you desperately needed if you had someone like Abaddon intent on scorching your ass with hellfire and letting her minions torture you for the pure fun of it.

"But we lost the key," said Dean. It was unlike the short man to admit his defeat so easily, but Sam guessed it had something to do with the presence of their many guests and the uncertainty of Nick's safety that had loomed over their heads after they had left Singer Salvage Yard.

Castiel placed a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault," he said.

Sam wasn't sure if Castiel was being sarcastic or truthfully sorry about their failed mission. The giant had a feeling all the misplaced books on human behaviour had been placed there because of Castiel and a sudden need to know how the society worked. In any case, it was deeply upsetting for every party to witness the exangel display such obviously fake human emotions. Points for trying, though.

"Thanks, Cass," said Dean. The short man shrugged the hand off and for a short second, Sam could have sworn Castiel looked slightly offended at the disrespectful move but the expression was gone within a fleeting moment.

"So we are down with one key?" Asked Naruto. At Dean's solemn nod, Sasuke pulled out another scroll. It was very much like the others the two Shinobi carried around, but this was one was smaller and cleaner than the others he had had the luck of seeing in actions.

"Tsunade sent this earlier today," said Sasuke. "I haven't opened it yet, seeing as I'm still not sure whether or not it is a Grimm key and I wanted your inputs before we decided if it was the real thing or not." It was a fair assumption, and one Sam would have made as well if they had not brought Nick along to Bobby's. Sam was just glad the Grimm hadn't brought his own key with him or they might have been down with two instead of only one.

"What are you waiting for? Open it," said Dean. The short man was impatient but his tense body had relaxed just a tad bit more at the news that they had not yet lost everything. Another key meant another part of the map and another part of the map meant getting closer to the Word.

Sasuke glared at Dean but the other man took no notice, something he had picked up from Naruto that Sam wished he could do as well. He had found the piercing black eyes to be brutal and cold whenever a glare would overcome the young teen's face but Dean appeared to have no problem resisting it.

Sasuke applied some chakra, the gesture only visible by the faint glow of blue that came to surround the part of his hand that was firmly pressed against the soft parchment of the scroll. With a _puff_ and a cloud of smoke, the scroll unfurled itself and presented its content for all of the viewers to see.

There, in the trickle of light coming from the bulb above their heads, was another key. Its metal was as finely decorated as Nick's own but the gleam carried a hint of something red. Sam hoped it wasn't blood.

"That makes six," said Renard. The Captain moved to take the key but Sasuke was faster and snatched it from the man before he could bend over and pick it up.

"I'll hold onto that for now," said the Uchiha.

"As you wish," said Renard. If the Captain was offended by the display of distrust, he didn't show it. Some part of Sam could see the reason behind Sasuke's wariness but after having witnessed Nick facing off a demon in a soldier's body, he had no doubts about the Grimm's associates and if he had said Renard was good, Sam held no objections. Sasuke, however, couldn't say the same.

"Sorry for taking so long," said Kevin. The teen had nearly rammed into the door in a hasty effort to get to the room with all its other people already inside. The only one who was missing now was Crowley and Sam wasn't sure how he would react if the King of Hell decided to show up all of a sudden, presumably just to join the fun. "I was finishing off some research when I heard about Nick. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's going to be fine," said Dean. The teen would have an easier time accepting that Nick was safe and unharmed from Dean rather than Rosalee. The whole ordeal with Crowley had left Kevin rather vulnerable and untrusting to new people. But the teen was trying and Sam was proud of him for that. He had accepted both Naruto and Sasuke fairly quickly and Sam could only guess that the teenager was sorely missing company of his own age. Even if that company were two Shinobi and confirmed killers.

"Good," said Kevin. The teenager rustled some of the pages he held in his hand. It was mostly loose papers with scrawls on it and elaborate sentences all strung together to create some sort of higher understanding that Sam was sure not many people in the room would be able to get. Mainly because Dean never really got that far in the educational system as he hadn't deemed it an important part of his life like Sam and Kevin had done. Sam wouldn't speak on behalf of the other people in the room, but he doubted more than two or three of them would be able to grasp the full extent of Kevin's prized work.

"The thing is, I analyzed that song Renard had in his journal. Thank you for that by the way-" Kevin tossed the small leatherbound journal over to Renard, quickly dismissing the point of squeezing through the crowd only to try and reach the door again afterwards. Renard grabbed the smooth leather before it could tumble to the ground, although Sam had his doubts the journal would ever make it that far even if the Captain missed. There were plenty of feet covering the cement floor to soften the fall of the ancient book. "After Naruto told me that he was the one who exists, I thought it was prominent to find out who the other people mentioned in the song are. My guess is that - since Naruto said that the existence part was only tied to his titel and not him as a person - the people mentioned are also referred to by a title. Or at least something that has anything to do with the word associated with them." Said Kevin. For now, he had kept it to simple words and not tried to go out and throw some fancy terms or else he would have lost too many people in the room and would have to explain again. It was sad that such talent should go to waste in a bunker underneath a ton of dirt, but it kept the teenager safe and Sam could ask for no more.

Other than an explanation for the people mentioned in the song. He would really like that.

"Yes, your point being?" Asked Renard. He voiced his impatience far earlier than Sam would have expected, but he chose not to comment. Instead, he would leave the glaring and grumbling part to his brother, although Sam suspected that Dean agreed with the Captain. Kevin did have tendencies to take the long way around things.

"I'm getting there," said Kevin. He was no pushover, but neither could he keep the information he had found hidden for much longer. It was part of his nature to be smart and God forbid if he couldn't be allowed to share that with someone every once in a while. "The song clearly speaks of someone who is. Which would mean that it is a person that cannot gain the title that is required like Naruto did. Meaning you had to have been born with it, leading me to the conclusion that the one who is, is none other than Renard."

"Me?" Asked Renard. The Captain didn't seem all that surprised but he didn't claim insanity either.

"Yes," said Kevin. "It makes sense that it would be a Royal, seeing as that it is something you had to have been born with and that you cannot gain, even through marriage. It has to be in your blood, and in your case, no one can take it from you either because you are a bastard Royal."

Renard winced and Kevin quickly skipped over that part. He had figured it would have been a sore subject for the Captain but since he had never mentioned his father to anyone - not even Nick - anyone would naturally have assumed he would have been over it. By the slight twitch of his eyebrow, it was clear he wasn't.

"So now we know two, but what about the rest?" Asked Sasuke. The Uchiha was leaning against the wall, only balancing on one foot and with his eyes closed. If Sam didn't know any better, he would have guessed the Uchiha was sleeping _and_ standing at the same time.

"The theory that the song is referring to other such titles or powers got me thinking down other lanes than I normally would. Which leads me to the first stanza of that passage. The one who sees," said Kevin. If he had been any closer, the gesture Kevin made with his hand would have made more sense than before he opened his mouth. No such luck. Sam could barely see Kevin's head and he thanked his tall stature just this once.

"Who other than Nick - and Sasuke to some extent - do we know that can _really_ look behind a mask and see what is underneath the underneath. And I mean _really_ look."

"You mean about Nick being a Grimm," concluded Renard. If Kevin could have given medals or gold stars for effort, he would have done so at that moment. Sam was glad he didn't.

"It's exactly about Nick being a Grimm." Said Kevin.

"That's all good," said Dean. "But what about that last one? The one who whatever," said Dean. The short man was getting impatient and Sam chalked it up to his incapability of looking over the crowd and actually have a conversation with some of the people in the cramped room. The only ones close enough to Dean were Monroe and Rosalee who were still keeping a watchful eye on Nick and would rather listen than contribute to the conversation. Afterall, they didn't know more about it than Renard, and he was only asking the obvious questions.

"The one who knows?" Supplied Kevin.

"Yeah, that one," Dean scratched his stubble.

"That would be you, Dean," said Kevin. "Or Sam."

Sam felt his breath hitch, if only for a moment. Hadn't they been through enough with the whole Lucifer and Michael fighting over meatsuits thing? Not to mention bringing about the apocalypse and freeing Abaddon weren't the best things they could write in their résumé.

"Why us?" Asked Dean. The squeak in his brother's voice wasn't evident, and only there if you knew when to look for it. It meant hesitation and fear, two emotions Dean would never allow any outsiders to associate him with. Sam noticed Castiel had just about raised the upper corner of his mouth in what might have been an awkward little smile and the giant knew the exangel had caught the slight change of pitch as well. Cass really was part of their family now - Grace or no Grace.

"Because you are the one who knows. There is nothing more to it. When I spoke to Monroe the other day-" the Blutbad had the decency to look sheepish. "He mentioned the term Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen, which basically means that you are a human who knows about Wesens. Meaning just about any hunter out there, but I am unsure whether or not you have to know that it's actually Wesen you might be hunting or if you can count if you just call them all monsters …" said Kevin. The teenager trailed off at the end and Sam gave a small chuckle. It was so typical for Kevin to spit out a theory or two only for him having to mull over it again after saying it out loud to the people involved. It was as though it made him more prone to the faults of his theory and he would stumble through his sentence as he realized it wasn't foolproof.

"Just great," said Dean. "So now we absolutely have to join this tablet hunt to the Swabian Circle that we _might_ just have the location of?"

"Dean, you shouldn't be so angry. It is a great opportunity for you to protect another Word. Who knows what will happen should it fall into the hands of Abaddon or this Viktor of Kronenberg," said Castiel. It was strange to hear him speak so much, let alone more than one sentence in a row, but the slight peptalk hidden behind the twisted words were welcomed. Sam had no doubt even Dean could understand what Castiel was trying to get across.

Save the day. Again.

Sam had no objections.

"I know, Cas, I know. I just thought we were past the point where it had to be us who did it. I was kinda' hoping Nick and the others would be enough," said Dean.

It was a declaration of trust to be so open in a room full of potential enemies, but Sam was proud of how far Dean had come. Besides, they had already seen the Batcave and Crowley, so what more had they to hide?

"Thank you," said Naruto. Sam was sure Dean couldn't grasp the look of gratitude on the blonde's face but his words conveyed his feelings very well.

"For what?" Asked Dean.

"For trusting us with something as important as this. I know it's hard to believe that you can rely on people other than yourself, but you have to remember that no matter what, there are people who will want to catch you. No matter how many times you might trip and mess up."

Sam was surprised by the passion with which Naruto spoke. Even the near sleeping Sasuke leaning on the wall had opened his eyes so a sliver of black irises could be spotted behind the eyelids. It was strange that a teenager - no, an adult - so young could speak of both such pain and sadness as though he had experienced it firsthand. Sam had no doubt Naruto had and maybe even Sasuke as well.

It was an even worse childhood than what he and Dean had had, if Naruto's small tales had been anything to go by. Both Shinobi had remained tight lipped about too much of their past except the Uchiha massacre and the sealing of the former Kyuubi, but even then, there were a lot of pieces missing. Naruto had once waved them off and told them that it hadn't been an easy ride, but he had never regretted what he had had to go through. The blonde claimed it had made him stronger both in person and in mind, and he had laughingly told both Winchesters off that if he hadn't had such a horrible childhood, it was possible he would never have met Sasuke. Sam couldn't possibly see a world where Naruto and Sasuke didn't know each other, but then again, it would be as if he was saying a world without Winchesters and angels wasn't a possibility.

Then again. It probably wasn't.

"Naruto, I'm not so sure you should go," said Rosalee. It was the first time Sam had heard her speak up since every single person in the Batcave - Crowley not included - had found themselves in Nick's room.

Sam had expected Naruto to defend himself, or even Sasuke to step in and tell her to back off. But they didn't. The blonde merely bit the inside of his cheek and glanced off to the side, his back finding enough space left on the wall to lean beside Sasuke, shoulders brushing.

"Why do you say that?" Asked Dean.

"His control hasn't improved as much as I would like, and the little training he has managed to do - even when I specifically told him not to do any strenuous activities - has done nothing but jeopardise what little control he has. Going away from here would be unsafe and I wouldn't advise it," said Rosalee. She was looking as timid as Naruto and wasn't keeping eye contact with anyone despite answering Dean's question.

"I thought the catnip mixture was supposed to help with that problem," said Renard.

Rosalee shook her head, finally finding enough purpose to peek up from behind Nick's limp body. "I'm afraid even my concoctions has its limits and Naruto's case is the worst I've ever seen."

"I can't help it," argued Naruto. It was the first thing he had said since Rosalee had disclosed her uncertainties with the rest of the group and even so, what the blonde was saying wasn't helping his case any further.

"I know," said Rosalee. If anything, the Fuchsbau had gained a motherly glint in her eyes whenever she spoke of, or with Naruto, and Sam could see where it was coming from. From one fox to another, Rosalee felt it was her responsibility to take care of the blonde. "But I still don't think you should go."

"I have to," said Naruto. He was sounding oddly like a petulant child, but Sam couldn't blame him. If Dean had tried to prevent him from going - as he had done on several occasions - it was the fewest of times Sam had actually listened to his older brother when it came to his own safety. The giant only figured Naruto was having the same problems. "They need me. You heard it too, Kevin said so."

"But can't Sasuke go? He is your Guardian, wouldn't that be enough?" Asked Rosalee. She was grasping for straws, knowing that she couldn't stop the blonde from following by force and that, at best, Sasuke might be able to go in his place. Although Sam doubted Naruto would be willing to put his boyfriend in the line of fire.

"Actually, he can't," said Kevin. Sam willed the other teen to leave the discussion at that, knowing that it would undoubtedly only bring the Fuchsbau's wrath onto him instead. "It clearly states that it _has_ to be the Wesen King and not just his Guardian in his stead. Besides, it would be incredibly risky if they did manage to find the tablet before Abaddon and Viktor, only to be stopped because Naruto hadn't been allowed to go."

Rosalee looked dejected at best, but even so, the Fuchsbau sighed and shook her head. "I know that no matter what I'm saying, you probably won't listen, but I'm not allowing you to go. And if you do go, it won't be with my good will," said Rosalee. Naruto would have pumped a fist in the air if not for the slight lack of space and the possibility of hitting Sasuke in the process. But Rosalee had made her statement clear. Naruto could go, but she would worry and she wasn't saying it was risk free for the others involved. If Naruto turned on them in the process, they shouldn't come crawling back to her with half of their limbs missing.

"Thank you," said Naruto. His first rush of satisfaction had apparently managed to settle quite quickly and with a sheepish smile in Dean and Sam's general direction, the blonde scratched the back of his head. "Actually there is one more thing I would like to ask."

Settling on eye contact with Sam, Sasuke shrugged beside his lover with a scowl on his face. Not that the act itself was much different from anything else Sasuke would do with others in the nearby vicinity, but it was the slight hesitation on the Uchiha's part that unsettled Sam. Sasuke had never hesitated with his antisocial acts before, and especially not when being near Naruto. It often meant an explosion in antisocial acts whenever the blonde chose to ignore the Uchiha.

"Go on," said Dean. Sam was sure his brother couldn't see Naruto's face and had acted upon the blonde's voice alone, prompted by the impatience Dean so often displayed.

"I think we should bring Crowley with us," said Naruto. It was said so hurriedly that Sam doubted he had heard the blonde correctly. Even more so, when Dean choked in his own spit and began a severe coughing fit that had Rosalee fussing over him and Monroe back away in fear of being blown away by the force of the coughs.

"What?" Croaked Dean.

"I said we should bring Crowley along with us. You know, when we get to the Swabian Square or whatever it's called."

"Swabian Circle," provided Kevin.

"Yeah, that one," said Naruto. Sam guessed his eyes must have taken on the shape of saucers, for when he looked at Sasuke, the Uchiha gave another half hearted shrug and a scoff.

"Don't look at me. I tried to talk him out of it."

Dean finally collected himself enough to shoulder his way through the small crowd and gain a position where he could at least spy part of Naruto's smiling face between Renard and Monroe.

"You cannot be serious?" Asked Dean. Sam congratulated his brother for not yelling out his sentence and Sam had to make sure he didn't squawk out something indignant either. The request was simply too weird to not freak out over. Had Crowley somehow managed to brainwash Naruto when they had spoken merely a week ago?

"I know what you are thinking," said Naruto. "Crowley must have done something to me to ask you this and yadda, yadda, yadda … Truth is, I snuck down to see him again while you guys were at that Bobby guy's house earlier today and I spoke with him. I stayed outside the Devil's Trap, mind you."

Dean looked furious for a split second but Sam admired Naruto's audacity to act so completely at ease when the two Winchesters had left a bunch of people in the place they deemed most secure. Sam couldn't blame the blonde for wanting to talk to Crowley again, it just didn't mean he approved of the method used.

"We kind of talked about a lot of things and even about Kurama. He sort of expressed his wish to _not _get a hold of the new tablet thing, but rather help us get it so he could rub it into Abaddon's face when we got it before she had a chance." Said Naruto. It was queer to hear the blonde so at ease when speaking of Crowley when only days prior the blonde had been shaking like a leaf after their first real encounter. Naruto sure had gotten over it fast.

"You can't trust anything he says," said Dean. It was more a cry of outrage than a calmly worded sentence and Sam agreed with his brother. The amount of times Crowley had managed to gain their trust only to have him turn upon them the moment they weren't beneficial to have around. But there was that one time …

"Dean," said Sam. The giant knew it was a long shot, but a shot nonetheless. "Maybe Naruto has a point."

"Not you too. Come on, Sammie, it's Crowley! Of all demons!"

"That's exactly my point. It's Crowley. Whom we were close to bringing back to a human state not so terribly long ago, if I remember correctly. I say we go along with Naruto's proposal and bring him with us," said Sam.

"I must object to this train of thought. Bringing Crowley into a matter of tablets is exponentially more dangerous than anything else the two of you would be able to come up with. I don't think it is a good idea," said Castiel. The exangel had barely spoken a word but he had remained in Nick's room with the rest of the Batcave occupants, and only now did he manage to get a word across his otherwise tightly sealed lips.

Dean sighed. "I have to say I agree with Cas on this one."

"Then perhaps we should take it up for a vote?" Asked Renard. The Captain had gained a rather vicious looking smirk that did not sit well with Sam and he could only look as Dean agreed with Renard.

* * *

><p>"Is it normal for humans to decide their fates with a voting of hands?" Asked Castiel. The exangel had turned oddly mute since the vote in Nick's room had gone south and Crowley had been allowed to go.<p>

Sam, Naruto, Sasuke - with an elbow from Naruto - and Renard as well as Rosalee had agreed to let the King of Hell join a potentially dangerous mission. Dean had guffawed at Rosalee when she had agreed with Naruto's terms and the only explanation the Fuchsbau had given was the fact that another demon who knew about Kyuubi tendencies might have a way of keeping Naruto more calm than if not.

Kevin had been against it. So had Castiel, Dean and Monroe but even so, they had lost the voting by one. Dean had claimed they should have waited for Nick to wake up but both Monroe and Renard had assured him that Nick would gladly hop aboard such a ridiculous plan, as much as the Blutbad hated to admit his friend's lack of good decisions.

So now it was only Castiel and Kevin in the Batcave.

Rosalee and Monroe had driven to the nearest town for herbal supplies and Renard had managed to get everyone else on a flight to Germany as soon as possible. Which left a prophet who had been grounded - despite his reasonings that it was his destiny to take care of the tablet and keep it safe - and an exangel who was still stuck at the thought of how such grave and important things pertaining to the safety of humankind could be agreed upon by such a meager thing as a round of hand voting.

"Sometimes," said Kevin, referring back to Castiel's question. "But even so, I don't think it was wise for Dean to agree to a hand voting in the first place. It was clear which side Renard was on."

Castiel set aside the book he had been reading. Another volume on human behaviour and how to best express emotions through facial features - and quite frankly, it was amusing how humans could write such ridiculous assumptions in a book that was supposed to be scientific.

"I fear their decision is unwise," said Castiel. The need to express his doubts and concerns were overflowing and Castiel guessed it was because of his newfound humanness. It was weird and had him on edge most of the time, but with Kevin's help, the exangel had managed to find a balance between human needs and still having an angel mind.

"I know, but what can we do?" Asked Kevin. "Crowley looked like he knew Naruto was going to succeed and his face lit up like a christmas tree when they pulled him into the Impala with cuffs and whatnot."

Castiel nodded. "There is only one person who can help us," he said. "Or should I say, angel."

Kevin sat up straighter in his chair. The air in the library of the Batcave was stifling at best and Castiel's nervous jittering had put the prophet on a higher alert than usual. It wasn't like Castiel to be so nervous and thoughtful at the same time. It was like a clash of angel and human minds that couldn't quite figure out how they were supposed to function with each other.

"I thought all the angels had lost their Grace?" Asked Kevin. He did not like where this was going.

"All but one," said Castiel. His voice sounded breathless, as though he had spent too much time thinking and had forgotten to breathe in the stale air that reeked of moulded pages and pigskin journals.

"Metatron," whispered Kevin. He didn't dare say the name any louder. He had only met the famed scribe once, and even though Castiel had spoken of the angel with both great wrath and pride, Kevin didn't know if he even wished to meet the angel again. The great Scribe who had thought Heaven too great for rebelling angels and a missing God.

"Yes," said Castiel. The exangel had his new trenchcoat on - one that Castiel had refused to tell how he came upon, but Kevin had noted it looked an awful lot like one of Renard's and the prophet wondered if the two men had shared their trenchcoat secrets. Kevin wouldn't put it past them but he hadn't pegged Renard as a sharing person either.

"You want to contact Metatron?" Asked Kevin. He had to be sure he understood Castiel correctly before he made any assumptions, even though he wasn't fond of where this was going.

"Yes, but I am going to need your help," said Castiel.

"You mean what summoning spells I managed to read off the angel tablet?"

Castiel didn't give a verbal agreement, but nodded his head and that was all the prophet needed.

"It's a good thing Sam and Dean keep a substantial amount of ingredients," said Kevin.


	16. I Do Not Owe You Anything

"I Do Not Owe You Anything," Snarled The Scribe

Chapter XV

It was ironic they had chosen to perform the spell in the middle of a crossroad.

Castiel hadn't gotten it at first and had merely looked at Kevin as the younger prophet had tried to explain the symbolic nature behind their chosen summoning place. Apparently, Castiel hadn't found it nearly as funny as Kevin when the prophet had revealed it would make Metatron seem like a crossroads demon.

In the end, Castiel had managed to give a tiny chuckle - which surprised Kevin to such an extent the prophet had dropped some of his ingredients - and had asked how long the spell would take to perform.

"The chanting and incantations should take just about ten minutes, no more," said Kevin.

"Then why have we been here for an hour already?" Asked Castiel. The exangel still had trouble figuring out why humans did as they did and Kevin sighed in response.

"Because, Cas, that time does not include the time it takes to set up the ingredients and do the proper seal work," said Kevin.

"Oh," Castiel wrinkled an eyebrow and Kevin knew that he had yet to understand the concept of patience and virtue in the most human sense of the words.

Kevin took a step back to admire his work. He had been quite satisfied to find the ingredient cabinets in the Batcave full of all necessities and two cans of red spray paint. While it wasn't the most efficient way to draw on gravel, it did provide some warped form of protection from an angel's wrath. Not that Kevin feared Metatron, he just didn't feel like having him come unprepared and ready to cook them for dragging him unwillingly out of Heaven for a short Q and A session.

"Is it going to work?" Asked Castiel. The exangel took a step forward, nearly tripping backwards with a grace not often associated with him, when Kevin grabbed a hold of his trenchcoat collar.

"Positive," said Kevin when Castiel rubbed his sore neck. The fabric didn't tear easily, and while it was good not having to buy a new trenchcoat every week, it did test one's limits when you were nearly choked with a sharp tug from a beige coloured jacket. "But I must stress the fact that you don't get any closer. I angel proofed it and we still have no definitive idea of how much of an angel there might still be left inside of you. Dean will have my head if I accidently trap you inside with Metatron."

Castiel didn't argue and Kevin didn't expect him to. Whenever Dean was brought up in argument, the exangel would turn oddly quiet and listen to the shorter man or what others thought Dean might say in the given situation.

"Can you begin?" Asked Castiel. Kevin huffed but proceeded with his given task without further ado. There was no reason to wait and the longer they stood in the middle of a crossroad, the higher the possibility of someone finding them by accident and questioning them about the ridiculous amount of lamb's blood in a clay bottle with satanic symbols on it. No, such a situation should be avoided no matter the cost.

The words fell from Kevin's mouth with practised ease. It was strange to hear them spoken aloud but the prophet had no objections as he kept up his chanting with only a minor glance from Castiel. Kevin had conveniently forgotten to ask the exangel if he was still somehow capable of understanding Enochian. Kevin prayed he didn't, as the prophet wouldn't be too fond of trying to translate the particular tongue twisting words into a coherent English sentence should it be needed.

By the slight crease of Castiel's brow, Kevin safely assumed that the exangel had a perfectly clear understanding of what he was saying. The prophet was sure some of it must have been swearwords by the way Castiel's brows shot up every now and then - the only features on the exangel's face that had a chance of showing some sort of emotion without Castiel thinking too hard about moving his mouth or shape it into a frown. Although the frown came not too far after Kevin was sure he had said something insulting about Metatron's family - which, to some extent - included Castiel as well.

The wind grew particularly forceful after the nine minutes of incantation and Kevin didn't doubt that Metatron was resisting the spell with all of his might. Too bad Kevin had had enough time to figure out a way to make the spell foolproof.

The sky darkened and a blitz of lightning was followed by a brief bout of rain. Amidst the growing puddle and soaked gravel, the red paint stayed and Kevin nearly jumped out of his skin when a screeching voice reached his ears.

"I do not owe you anything!" Snarled the scribe and Kevin felt his breathing hitch as he locked eyes with Metatron. The angel looked well groomed and the lack of old grandfatherly sweaters had Kevin stumble back in surprise. No longer was there a beard full of all things sticky, and the defeated face Kevin had come to associate with the Scribe had been replaced by a look of utter fury.

"That may be," said Kevin. He refused to be scared into submission by an angel so foul as Metatron who had abused the position given to him by God. "But the least you can do is tell us why Sam and Dean, and a whole bunch of other people and demons alike, are looking for a fourth tablet?"

"You mentioned only three, that we know of," interjected Castiel and while Kevin appreciated the verbal support, it was clear Castiel was as curious and betrayed about the whole situation as Kevin himself felt.

Metatron visibly blanched.

"What?" He asked.

Kevin gritted his teeth. He didn't have time for this sort of nonsense. "We know that God made a fourth Word and Abaddon is out to get it, so please, don't try to fool us by playing dumb. We both know you are far from it."

Metatron let out a sound - inhuman at best - that was oddly like the throaty whine of a dog that had just been hit by its owner. It was a defeated and dejected sound that Kevin couldn't match with the image of the strong Scribe that now stood in front of him, trapped by two cans of red spray paint and a decoration of lamb's blood.

"No," muttered Metatron. "It can't be …"

"It has to be," said Castiel. The exangel had narrowed his eyes and Kevin wondered if Castiel had skipped to the part of his book on human emotions that described fury. It certainly was an odd emotion to see displayed on the exangel's otherwise emotionless face.

"You don't understand," said Metatron. He was fumbling with his words, even more so than Kevin remembered. "No one was to know. It was hidden by the Seven to never be found or used by _anyone_." Gulping in air that Kevin found strangely thin and moist, the Scribe stammered out a sentence Kevin hadn't expected to ever hear. "Not even God is supposed to know where it is. Not even he can be allowed to use it."

"But you wrote it down for him," argued Kevin. It seemed unfair and unlikely that something of such grave importance was not to be found even by God himself. It didn't make any sense.

"And I wished I hadn't," said Metatron. The look of fear was strange, now that Kevin thought about it. He had seen Castiel frightened from time to time, and he had thought all angels to be incapable of expression the emotion properly.

However, Metatron was the embodiment of fear and all creatures scared at the moment.

"Why?" Asked Castiel. By the swarm of emotions Kevin could see brewing behind Castiel's eyes, the exangel had as hard a time as he in understanding how it could possibly be worse than the angel tablet. "There must have been a reason why you told us there were only three Words."

Even when prompted by Castiel, Metatron remained silent and Kevin felt something settle in his stomach like rocks from an ancient mountain. Heavy and polished from years of erosion.

"Of course there was a reason! There is always a reason!" Said Metatron. The angel exploded outwards, his anger fueled by helplessness and the mere act of having been caught by such a stupid spell as one he had written when God had asked him to.

"Then what is the fourth Word?" Asked Kevin. He was getting sick of guessing and the uneasy feeling in his stomach wasn't weedling away with every word Metatron spoke - it merely served to put him further on edge. The apparent reluctantness of the otherwise vengeful angel would be enough to alert anyone that something was indeed wrong.

"The Word-" said Metatron and cut off, apparently rewording his sentence as he tried to speak. He flicked his tongue, darting out to moisten his lips as the next words stuck themselves in his throat. "It is the Tablet of Creation."

Kevin choked on air and Castiel turned oddly quiet.

"It was the Word no one was supposed to know about," cried Metatron. The composed angel who had snarled at the two of them less than ten minutes ago had turned into a sobbing wreck of something Kevin couldn't understand.

"How is that possible?" He asked. It wasn't supposed to be possible.

Metatron gave another sob as he sunk down to the soaked and bloodstained gravel. "It was God's suicide plan. It was never supposed to have had a tablet of its own but God insisted that I wrote it down and I did."

Castiel had yet to voice his displeasure or anything at all at the disturbing news.

Slowly, a rumble started in the exangel's throat. It was low and confusing, as though Castiel wasn't sure if he was trying to act furious or devastated at the news of his Father's plan. "How can we stop it from ever being read?" Asked Castiel.

Metatron gazed ahead, somewhere between Castiel and Kevin before he shook his head and found an answer worth saying out loud. "If there were no more prophets we wouldn't have to worry but that would mean killing every new prophet from the moment they were born and even I know that is not a possibility. Humankind is too quick to reproduce their offspring and I am sure such a heinous act would leave a foul taste in your mouth."

Kevin was glad Metatron shot down that option before it could become a possibility. He wasn't too fond of violence in the first place and having his head explode was not how he had envisioned his death.

"What other options are there?" Asked Castiel. Kevin started - for a short moment, it had sounded as though Castiel had been contemplating Metatron's first solution.

"No, now it's my turn to ask some questions," said Metatron. Castiel was taken aback by the abrupt change of demeanor and Metatron found a way to push himself up from his lotus position amongst the gravel and blood. It was dignified in such a strange way Kevin would never have associated the vengeful angel with. He seemed almost resolute in something other than his revenge against his fellow brethren.

"Who did you say is after the tablet?"

Kevin kept his mouth shut and had thought Castiel would do the same, if not just for the fact that it wasn't the smartest move to reveal something so huge to your sort of friend turned enemy. And yet the exangel had never spoken more clearly or so fast as he did then.

"Abaddon and Viktor Beckendorf," said Castiel. Kevin would have hit the exangel had he not been so scared of the consequences that was sure to follow such an idiotic move on his behalf.

Metatron scowled and Kevin wondered how the Scribe had not taken to asking the next obvious question. Who was Viktor and how did Metatron not need to know? The prophet hadn't heard of the Crown Prince of Kronenberg before Renard had had the pleasure of giving them all a 101 in Royal Houses and their bastard side families.

"I don't like Abaddon," said Metatron and Kevin found it hard not to agree with him. Everyone who had ever heard or knew of Abaddon feared the Knight of Hell and if you didn't, that typically meant you were on her side.

"Neither do I," stated Castiel. Kevin hadn't found it necessary to verbally agree with the Scribe, but the angel part of Castiel was harder pressed than the prophet would have thought in the presence of another angel. One who still had it's Grace, at least.

"So what do you plan on doing?" Asked Metatron.

"Stop her," said Kevin. He felt intimidated to speak in front of the Scribe but knew better than to fear a caged angel. The proofing on the ground wouldn't wash away no matter how much rain might pelt down from the Heavens in objection. The Winchesters had made sure to buy waterproof spray paint and Kevin was thankful for that. It meant one thing less to fear.

"And how, pray tell, would a prophet and a downed angel do that?" Asked Metatron. It was haunting and Kevin knew from the moment the words left Metatron's mouth that the Scribe doubted the truth behind the prophet's brave words. They were empty and they all knew it.

"A lot more than you are able to do at the moment," said Castiel. Kevin felt a smile tug at his lips at the exangel's cockiness, but the prophet enjoyed the witty comeback as much as if it had been his own. Yes, Castiel had definitely done some reading up on human emotions and witty responses that might have been marked as a collection of Dean Winchester's snarky comebacks.

"And whose fault is it that I am in such a predicament?" Asked Metatron.

"Your own," said Castiel, not missing a beat. His face was devoid of emotion, just as it had been when he had gone full angel mode, and even when possessed by Leviathans had he not broken the mask once. It was unnerving and calming at the same time.

"When will you get over that? I didn't do it to be evil to you _exactly_, but more as a sort of revenge on all angels. You were merely the means to an end," said Metatron.

That pulled a response from Castiel.

"You had me kill a Nephilim at your request. I did your dirty work and not once did I question the consequences of my actions."

"Why do you think I loathe angels as much as I do? We are mindless beasts who follow the orders of a Father who abandoned us and left us to war while he searched for himself and let us fight amongst our own! I saw what we would become and so I hid the tablets, all of them, and what good did it do in the end? None! Angels still killed each other and they no longer cared for humankind just like Father," said Metatron. During his tantrum, the angel had cooled down but the anger still raged behind his baggy eyelids and dull eyes.

"Which is why I needed your help and yet you abandoned me like Father once did," said Castiel.

Metatron flinched. The first sign of guilt Kevin had seen since they had summoned the Scribe to the tiny prison by the side of a crossroad. Castiel had told him - quite reluctantly - of his misadventures with Metatron before things had gone south and he had become an asset to expel the angels from Heaven, including himself. It was something the exangel was not proud of and Kevin couldn't blame him for the guilt the prophet knew to be somewhere in Castiel's lacking array of emotions.

"Then let me make it up to you," said Metatron. It was said slowly - the words drawled out and made deliberately longer than they should have. A silent calm in the steady pit patter of rain that had gently resumed its task of soaking everyone not able to seek out shelter from the heavy cloud cover.

Kevin whipped his head up and sought eye contact with the Scribe.

They had no reason to trust the man that had betrayed them and mankind more times than Kevin cared to admit, but even then the prophet couldn't make himself lose interest in what Metatron might have to say. He was the Scribe of God and therefore was bound to have more knowledge than any other angel in Heaven or Hell. Even Earth. There was no evidence indicating Metatron didn't remember all that he had once written down in a haste on tablets that had later been scattered amongst tribes who knew nothing of Enochian. What if Metatron had done them all a favour by not using his dangerous knowledge of the Word of Creation and had let them all live for but a small price?

Kevin shook his head.

If Metatron had remembered, then he would have had as much power as God himself and while Kevin did not have contact with the one that had bestowed upon him the title of prophet, he had no qualms with the powerful being in itself. Surely someone like God would have taken precautions and have deleted all knowledge of the event and dictation that the creation of a new tablet would require? If not, Kevin had a hard time as to see why the world had yet not ended.

"Why should we trust you?" Castiel voiced Kevin's fears and the prophet knew they had every right to be suspicious. Metatron knew it too.

"Please, I beg of you" said the Scribe. "I know that I have wronged many angels and humans alike, but we cannot risk the tablet falling into the hands of such filthy creatures as Abaddon or Viktor. Just one of them is enough but together those two might just succeed in getting what they want - and that cannot happen, no matter what we must do to prevent it from happening."

Kevin gulped. Metatron had gone as far as to bow before Castiel who had stepped close enough to the angel proofing that Kevin could feel unease squirm in the pit of his stomach.

"How would you be able to help?" Asked Castiel. Kevin dreaded the answer but his curiosity got the better of him, as it always had, even though the prophet knew they should have left by then. That they should have left Metatron to rot in a circle of blood by the side of the road until the gravel itself shifted and broke the angel proofing with nothing but time and weather as its ally.

"I can give you back your grace."

That was the final straw. The final component that had Kevin reel back in fascination and disgust. After everything Metatron had done to create his elaborate scheme he would be willing to give back the one thing that had ensured his success?

"Do it," said Castiel.

Kevin whipped his head around so fast he was worried it might have snapped and had somehow ended up in some alternate form of Hell. "What?"

"It might be the only solution," said Castiel. "If it can help us take down Abaddon and Viktor then so be it."

"Cas, this is not just about you getting your Grace back. This is about trusting Metatron, of all people, to keep his promise and not fuck up even more!"

Castiel stared for a long time until Kevin realized what he had done.

"Yes, I swore! Now do you understand how much I don't want you to do this?" Asked Kevin. It somehow hurt that Castiel would even consider the possibility of trusting Metatron again and the prophet knew how much Dean would object to the two of them just talking with the Scribe.

"I do not understand," said Castiel. "But I do know that we need to help Sam and Dean, and I can do that best if I manage to obtain my Grace once again."

Kevin knew nothing more than the rain changing to a light blue mist that encased the crossroad in something the prophet had not seen for a long time.

Grace.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure we are in the right place?" Asked Naruto. The blonde stretched his arms as high above his head as he could muster and a shiver ran down his spine, raking his frame as he shuddered in the light cold. Snow had yet to fall in the Swabian Circle but the thick cover provided by the leafy crowns above them made the forest dimmer and colder than even the most rain drenched alley back in Portland.<p>

"Yes, Naruto, I am absolutely sure we are going in the right direction," said Dean, although he was not the one with the map. Sam was far too concentrated to answer to the blonde's demands about directions and when they would get to their destination.

It's not like Dean was a soothsayer with hidden abilities that somehow provided him with all the coordinations he needed to find the magical door to another Word.

"Dobe, shut up," said Sasuke. Naruto was trudging ahead of the others, Sasuke close behind. Renard and Nick kept up the rear end, the Captain with one hand on his gun and Nick twisting his head every two seconds as he heard a new noise he had yet to identify. They were all jumpy, and with good reason.

Now that Abaddon had managed to get a hold of one key, there was no telling if Viktor might have managed to get copies or older versions of the map divided by the keys. If Abaddon and Viktor were hiding somewhere in the forest, they wanted to be prepared.

"By what I can see, we are only missing a tiny portion of what would have been the complete map, but even so, we should be going in the right direction according to this," said Sam and brandished the slip of paper blotched and stained with ink of various colours. They had decided to mark the keys in different colours, as to know when one key began and another ended.

"So, straight ahead like the last two hours?" Asked Naruto. It had been fairly easy to get to the general vicinity of the Swabian Circle, Renard taking to using underhand methods to get them a plane far quicker than anyone would have thought possible. But even then, the Captain had assured them there was nothing to worry about, he was merely making sure they would avoid any unnecessary passport control.

"Yes, straight ahead," repeated Sam. He didn't lift his eyes from the paper when answering and the giant knew Naruto didn't expect him to. The blonde had taken to running up ahead, his energy and nerves rattling their small group until Sasuke had assured them that it was merely Shinobi antics that made the blonde scout ahead. The Uchiha had explained they would usually go out in groups of four and scout the area with one person being the head of the formation, just like Naruto was now. It was at Sasuke's suggestion Renard and Nick had moved to the back of the group.

"Great," mumbled Naruto. For some reason, ever since he had stepped foot inside the Swabian Circle - no, ever since he had breathed in the air, the place had irked him. Grated on his nerves and dazed him like after sleeping for a long time and waking up with the sun in your eyes. It kept you warm but annoyed you at the same time.

Rubbing his arms, Naruto quickened his pace and ran on ahead. He knew Sasuke wouldn't mind and after having heard his lover explain the reason behind his actions to the rest, the group had slowly lost some of the tension Naruto had sensed within them.

The grass bent under his weight as Naruto left the group behind. It was easier to follow the feeling pooling in his stomach whenever he drew away from the rest of the group and the blonde drew in a harsh breath. The air was clearer than anything Naruto had ever come across. It reminded him of the cold landscapes of Princess Fu's country and it gave him a sense of freedom he hadn't felt in a long time.

Despite leaving after Rosalee had deemed it unsafe for the blonde, Naruto had done nothing but get better in both spirit and body. His control had improved greatly over the short amount of time since they had left the Batcave and Naruto suspected it had something to do with the change of scenery.

Naruto stumbled.

The blonde shot out a hand as he came to a stop to rest beside a tree. That was odd. It almost felt like the time when he had gone to visit Crowley for the first time.

"You okay up there?" Asked Crowley, his suit a strange contrast against the bleak forest. The others had nearly caught up with him and Naruto gave a quick nod. There was no need to keep them all from going on just because he felt a bit queasy. Naruto waited until Sasuke had passed him, the Uchiha raising one eyebrow at the blonde but he was merely waved off. Crowley was handcuffed and Naruto didn't move until he felt the King of Hell rest two hands upon his shoulder.

"You sure?" Asked Crowley. For some reason, Naruto felt comfortable around the other man and while it upset Sasuke, it calmed some of the Kyuubi instincts Naruto was still fighting to control. Somehow, Crowley made it easier whenever he was around and the blonde had begun to question just how much Crowley knew about Wesen and Bijuu.

"I'm fine," said Naruto and pushed himself forward.

"You do realize the others won't mind if we take another break, right?"

"I don't need another break, we've already had plenty," said Naruto.

"Okay, okay," said Crowley and held up his hands in a placating manner. "No need to bite my head off, Kyuubi."

The King of Hell had taken to calling him that and Naruto guessed it was because Crowley somehow missed Kurama and saw the blonde as a sort of replacement of his old friend. Frowning, Naruto fell into step beside the older man.

"What was Kurama to you?" Asked Naruto. He had to know and Crowley was the only one with the answer.

Crowley chuckled and Dean shot the demon a harsh look but said nothing. The Winchesters had both kept a sharp eye on the King of Hell and Crowley had remained in their line of sight ever since they had left the Batcave. "What do you think?" Asked Crowley.

"That you shouldn't answer a question with a question."

"Touché."

"But I also think that you and Kurama were close. And that that is the reason you are helping us, or more specifically, me."

Crowley winked at him and Naruto gave a slightly hesitant laugh. Good thing Sasuke was scouting ahead or the Uchiha might have popped a blood vessel.

"To me, Kurama was a step-brother. The one I could go to whenever I had a problem, when the other crossroad demons became too much or they wouldn't listen to me. Kurama was my best friend," said Crowley. The words were said barely above a whisper and Naruto suspected that even though Crowley was open with him, he did not want the Winchesters or anyone else to overhear what could be considered a soft past.

"It is unusual for demons to make friends that won't stab them in the back the moment they are no longer of any use, but Kurama was different. I met him after this whole ordeal, after he had hidden the tablet - and God, I wish he had told me about it - and we just clicked. It wasn't magical and he was a downright git when I first came across him. But two gits are better than one and when he told me he had nowhere to go, we started hanging out," said Crowley. Naruto laughed alongside the other demon. It sounded so much like Kurama to behave like a complete jackass whenever he met someone new. God, the amount of times Naruto had been outright frustrated with the old fox because he refused to give a straight answer to one of Naruto's questions.

"Kurama primarily helped me out with my crossroad deals, and then one day he told me he had to go home. I asked him where and he told me Japan. I wanted to go with him but he turned me down, said it was something Old Man Sage had told him he had to do and that was the last I saw of him. Neither hide nor hair ever since that day and now you show up," said Crowley.

"Sounds like something Kurama would do," said Naruto. It was strange to meet someone who had been friends with Kurama before the old fox had been imprisoned within the first Jinchuuriki.

"But I guess that explains why he never did come back," said Crowley.

"What did?" Asked Naruto.

"He couldn't come back. He was trapped inside of you."

Naruto slowed down his steps. It was true that Kurama had never told him of a life outside of Jinchuurikis and that the thought of Kurama wandering the earth before then did give Naruto a sense of guilt. Had he not been a Jinchuuriki, Crowley would have had more time with his step-brother - but the King of Hell had never known what had happened to his brother or why he didn't come back.

"My turn to ask a question," said Crowley. Naruto snapped his head back up to the conversation at hand.

"Sure."

"What was Kurama to _you_?"

It wasn't the question Naruto had expected. Perhaps it would have been better for Crowley to ask how his brother died or if he had a decent life living inside of another human being, but no. Naruto had not expected his earlier question to be thrown right back at him.

"Kurama was my father, in a weird sort of way," said Naruto. "My parents passed away when I was born and then one day, I met Kurama. I had never been able to speak with him before - Hell, I didn't even know he existed until I turned twelve and someone accidently told me - but it meant I had someone to talk to. I wasn't treated very well but Kurama would encourage me to do better and that one day I would be someone the villagers would look up to. I guess he was right."

Crowley patted his back. Naruto guessed it was supposed to be a comforting gesture but the fact that Crowley's hands were chained together made it a lot more awkward than it should have been.

"I take it you miss him?" Asked Crowley.

"Very much," said Naruto. Losing Kurama had been like losing Jiraiya all over again. Unpleasant, heartbreaking and unfair.

Crowley was quiet for a while and Naruto relished in the silence. There was no awkward air between the two of them and Crowley broke down the barrier even more with his next statement.

"Then I guess you are my nephew, in a way," said Crowley.

Naruto would have tripped but he caught himself in the last moment. The act caused Crowley to chuckle again and Dean to shush on him as Sam concentrated on getting them in the right direction.

"What?" Choked Naruto.

"Oh, come on, you heard me. If Kurama was my brother and your father, then that makes you my nephew in some sort of non creepy way."

Naruto felt odd. A sort of fizzling feeling in his stomach.

"Why?" Asked Naruto.

"Pardon?"

"Why would you do something like that for me?"

"Why not?" Said Crowley. "Kurama was my friend and if he made you his heir, then you gained his seal of approval as well. Besides, Kurama's family is my family."

Naruto grinned. A grin he had not used for a long time - one that he had taken to use whenever the subject of Akatsuki would come up and people would tell him that they wouldn't let him die while they were still alive and kicking. A smile he hadn't used since Neji sacrificed himself for him.

"Thank you," whispered Naruto. The blonde fell to his knees as his stomach protested again.

"Naruto?" Crowley's voice was distant and Naruto couldn't quite place it. His eyes were fuzzy and nothing came into focus no matter how hard he tried. He could feel Sasuke beside him, the warm chakra as recognizable as his own but Naruto collapsed into a heap of limbs on the forest floor.

Something was calling out to him.

It reminded him of Kurama. Of the first time Naruto had been assaulted with memories that weren't his and the blonde felt like puking. He was sure he had fallen to the ground with his mouth closed, but the taste of leaves left a bitter sting in the back of his throat.

He knew this place.

He knew the trees and the leaves and the earth in which he stood on all four paws. He had been there before. Only once, but with Veitli and the six other Swabians with whom he had sworn to protect the tablet from any and all that would dare to take it.

And now someone was there. To remove the tablet.

Everything instinct within him screamed at the blonde to fight. To protect the nature around him and prevent whoever wanted to steal the tablet from ever reaching the door that would lead them to the ultimate treasure.

It didn't matter that the people trying to get to it were friends and family. At the moment, they were his enemies and he would make sure they didn't get their hands on what he had sworn to protect all those years ago.

"Naruto?" Asked Sasuke.

The blonde had shed himself of his human skin, and the orange hoodie Naruto had worn since they had left Portland was left on the forest floor as the blonde no longer needed the extra clothing to keep himself warm. Fur had sprouted from every pore of his body and Naruto no longer looked human.

Shuddering, Sasuke came to the conclusion that Naruto looked too much like Kurama - the only real difference being the colour of their fur. While Kurama's had been blood red, Naruto's was as golden as his hair would have been if he had been human at the moment. Sasuke was just glad that along with Kurama's instincts and memories, Naruto had not inherited the same height as the old Kyuubi.

Not that fighting a nine-tailed fox the size of a horse made it any easier.

"God dammit Crowley, what did you say to him?" Yelled Dean. Sam had abandoned his melodious task with the map to instead stare at the Wesen in front of him.

"I didn't say anything that could have provoked _that_!" Defended Crowley.

Dean didn't believe the other demon but Nick broke off the shorter man before he could begin to argue with the other demon in full. There was no time to get pissy about old rivalries when they had a giant fox ready to kill them on their hands.

"Stop it, both of you," said Nick and Dean grumbled something about unfairness which the Grimm chose to ignore.

Out of all the people in their group, Sam and Dean would be the ones least likely to imagine Naruto as a giant fox. Renard and Nick had both had the pleasure of cornering Naruto in the abandoned warehouse, Crowley had known enough about Kurama and Sasuke had simply been around Naruto long enough to know when the blonde was in control of his actions and when he wasn't. Now was one of those times.

"It doesn't matter what provoked Naruto. All we need to know is that he isn't in control," said Sasuke. "See his pupils? Fully dilated and red, which means it is the most basic of instincts that controls him now."

It pained the Uchiha to see Naruto so far gone but his battle ready stance and the drawn kunai let the others know that Sasuke was plenty capable of battling his own lover. Nick chalked it up to Shinobi skills and left it at that. He wasn't interested in knowing if Sasuke had been in the same situation before with Naruto as an enemy.

By the way the Uchiha was so firm in his determination and the activation of his Sharingan, he probably had.

The fox snarled as Sasuke took a step forward and Crowley scooted a fair amount of steps backwards. Dean glared.

"What? You have me handcuffed and you think I would willingly step closer to a frothing animal? Do you think I am off my rocker?" Asked Crowley. It was a fair point but Dean wasn't willing to let the other demon scoot away while they were occupied dealing with a four legged Naruto.

"We should have listened to Rosalee," moaned Nick.

"There is nothing we can do about it now. Done is done," said Renard. He had drawn his own gun and Nick had followed suit.

The fox had yet to move. It just stood in front of them all, snarling and yapping so much that spittle flew from its lips. It blotted its teeth but made no move to get closer to their little group.

"Protector," hissed the fox. "I am the Protector."

Nick had to wonder how the fox could pronounce human words when the mouth couldn't possible move the same way a human's would do. "What?" He asked.

"Grimm," said the fox. Its red eyes turned to Nick and he took a step backwards. Naruto was intimidating and the prospect of battling a fox the size of a small van wasn't Nick's favourite idea of a good time. "You who once walked with me, why are you trying to steal the Word?"

Nick frowned but didn't let go of his gun. If the fox was offended by Nick's reluctance to put down his weapon, it didn't show.

"We are trying to protect it from someone else," said Nick. "The only way we can do that is by moving the tablet."

"No!" Shrieked the fox. "It must not be moved. It _cannot_ be moved. It was placed in this black forest because it was here it was granted its power, where it was written. This is a sacred place and I must protect it from anyone who wishes to destroy that, just like the Kyuubi before me and the Kyuubi before him."

"Naruto," said Sasuke. "Baka! You can't protect it from Abaddon and Viktor if you are busy trying to protect it from us."

The fox cocked its head, stopping its snarling if only for a short moment and licked its maw in confusion. "Am I not protecting it from you who wishes to do the same as the Knight and the Prince? One evil does not overshadow another, it is merely the question of which evil is more impending."

"Then we are not your enemies," said Sasuke.

"You became my enemies the moment you stepped into this forest with ill intentions."

The fox had calmed down immensely but retained its defensive stance in front of the little group, blocking their path and preventing them from travelling any further into the forest.

"So I was right?" Asked Sam. The fox twisted its head, the strange canine face looking oddly like an owl as it blinked in confusion. "We are getting closer?" Elaborated Sam.

The fox barked and its body turned rigid, muscles rippling underneath the golden fur as it howled in anger. "Have I not told you that you cannot change the fate of the tablet? It shall forever be trapped within the depth of this forest and nothing you say can change that fact."

"And yet I feel there is so much more that can be done about that."

The fox whirled around, its back facing Sasuke and the rest as its red eyes clashed with the sight of more people.

"You!" Said the fox. "It has been you who I have felt ever since I returned to this forest. You will not have the tablet!"

Abaddon laughed, shrill and high until she stopped abruptly and took a step closer to the fox. "Aren't you just the puppy of the month; all bark and no bite."

Naruto growled. It started like a bubbling pit in his stomach and moved to his throat where it rose in pitch and turned into a guttural sound of anger.

"Viktor, why don't you come and say hi to your cousin?" Asked Abaddon. She did not step any closer to the fox but Nick wished that she had. Perhaps then Naruto could have swallowed her without further problems and Renard would have been spared a rather awkward family reunion.

Viktor had not dressed any differently than he would have had for a day at the office. All flashy with suit and tie and Renard couldn't help but growl at his cousin's lack of weapons. The Captain had no doubt Viktor wouldn't be doing any of the dirty fighting and Renard was proven right when Viktor gestured with his hand and three other demons slithered out from among the trees.

Naruto twisted and turned, trying to have all five of them somewhere within his line of vision but gave up. Stepping back would require him to get closer to the other group and while Renard would bet his Royal status Naruto was more comfortable closer to them and not Abaddon and Viktor, the instincts overrode whatever memories Naruto had of them.

"My, my, dear cousin. Keep that Zauberbeist locked up for a while longer, why don't you?" Laughed Viktor.

"Why don't you die in a car explosion?" Asked Renard. He was close to woging but refrained from doing so, the comment about his heritage stinging but only fueling his anger further.

"That wasn't nice, Sean. What would your father say?"

"He would ask me why I killed Eric and not myself."

"You know him so well," said Viktor. "But then again, I do hate when things don't run according to schedule. Abaddon, if you would be so kind?" Viktor leaned down, kissed Abaddon's hand and gave a crooked smile.

"Such a gentleman," said Abaddon. "Hard to find these days," she whispered, not bothering to lower her voice but making the words raspy in her throat as she half shouted them across the clearing. "Oh, and Crowley. What a terrible pleasure to meet you here. I have completely forgotten to ask you, how does it feel being the Winchesters' bitch?"

"Rot in Hell," spat Crowley.

"I count on that," said Abaddon. "As soon as I take the crown from you."

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged, Crowley. Meatsuits are so easily replaced now a days."

Naruto snarled again, barked once, and launching himself at a cackling Abaddon. The fox roared while Abaddon screeched in surprise, the smile ripped from her face as she felt the body of a nine-tailed fox slam into her ribs. The two of them plunged to the ground, Abaddon below and Naruto on top as the redhaired female punched the fox on the nose. Naruto yelped and flew back, the blow stinging as it hit his nose head on.

"Let's join the fray," said Sasuke and cocked his head towards the other demons. They were wearing army clothes again and the Winchesters didn't expect the fight to be easier than any other fight.

"Nick and I will handle Viktor," growled Renard and woged. The sight of the nearly fleshless face had Dean shudder in both revulsion and disgust, but he knew the need to fully let go better than others.

"Okay," said Dean. "But be careful. That goes for every one of you."

Sasuke nodded and in a flash, the Uchiha was gone, the sound of kunai whistling through the air and the scream of demons the only thing Dean could make out amidst the prison of trees and lingering shadows.

Naruto yowled and snarled as he threw himself back at Abaddon, teeth blotted as he tried to reach every inch of available skin that would allow the redhaired woman to scream in pain and discomfort. Abaddon reeled back, feet dancing and skimming the surface of the forest floor as she nimbly avoided the massive head that clamped down on nothing but air.

"You have to do better than that if you want to call yourself the King of Wesen," laughed Abaddon. Naruto twisted his body as Abaddon avoided another bite, the change of weight allowing the fox to roll. Abaddon tripped, the barreling fox forcing her to take a step back that could not be calculated and the redhaired female hobbled for balance while the fox threw out a paw to stop itself from rolling further away.

Situated directly behind Abaddon, Naruto snapped his jaws open and clamped down on Abaddon's Achilles' heel. The fox could smell the blood seeping from the wound and taste the coppery liquid that ran into its mouth. The fur around its jaws became smeared with blood as Abaddon howled in pain and Naruto growled.

"Filthy animal!" She shrieked. "You worthless piece of demon trash!"

The redhaired female fell to the ground, one foot still stuck in the mouth of the beast and she wailed as she hit the fox on its head. The blows were tough on his skull and tugged at his skin but Naruto didn't let go. Blood welled as Abaddon broke through the thin layer of flesh and dripped into Naruto's red eyes. The fox blinked and chewed harder, batting away the bloody drops with its eyelashes.

The fox was big enough to have trapped Abaddon's foot and leave the limb with close to no oxygen. The bones cracked and Naruto howled in satisfaction between clenched teeth as Abaddon kept up her screaming. Naruto didn't let go until the tarsal bone broke under the pressure of his maw.

Naruto was vaguely aware of the fighting around them but paid it no attention. He was the Protector of the forest and therefore it was his duty as to not let the tablet be discovered and get taken away. And Abaddon was the one who was the biggest threat. Her scent was enticing, brimming with maliciousness and Naruto had tasted it on the tip of his tongue ever since they had arrived in the Swabian Circle. Abaddon and Viktor had been there long before their little group had, and they had waited for them. Waited for them to make a mistake and to be close enough to the tablet so that they could get their hands on it themselves.

Naruto felt the skin of his cheek puncture as Abaddon punched the fox with all her might, using her other hand to throw the animal away from her wounded body. Naruto laughed - as much as demonic fox could - as he lay on his side and watched her inspect her injury. The fox felt the pull of muscles as he coughed up Abaddon's blood so that it wouldn't clot up his throat. He had swallowed a fair bit and although he admittedly liked the taste, the fox knew it wasn't healthy to swallow the blood of your enemy.

"Viktor!" Said Abaddon. She supported herself with one hand on the rough bark of a tree and for a while, the fox laid on the ground, pondering over why the redhaired female would try to beckon a man who was locked in his own fight.

It wasn't until Naruto smelled another scent that he knew why.

Hundjäger.

Their scent coated his nostrils and made the fox gag, effectively getting rid of the last blood in his mouth. Their pungent smell was all around the clearing and Naruto felt panic well in his chest. Abaddon and Viktor had been nothing but a distraction. The Hundjäger were the real enemies. Prowling in the shadows and only coming forth at the signal from their leader, Naruto knew he had failed his mission.

Abaddon was injured, yes, but so was he and the amount of energy he had used to even wound the redhaired female had left him weak on his paws. He could do nothing as three Hundjäger swarmed his field of vision and Naruto felt their teeth bury themselves in his fur. They tore and tugged and seared.

Naruto could only watch as he was dragged from the clearing, the others still engaged in their fights with the other demons and Abaddon slowly slithering away like the snake she was. The fox tried to call out, tried to warn the others that they were being tricked, but something prevented him from doing so.

Looking up into the bright eyes of Abaddon, Naruto saw the source of his discomfort. The redhaired female had discarded of her own belt and had proceeded to tie it around his muzzle, preventing him from snapping and biting anyone who came near.

"Not so confident now, are we, Kyuubi?"


End file.
